Cutthroats and Scoundrels
by Thysia
Summary: Rogue embarks on a new type of adventure. Crossover
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer: **I obviously don't own any of the characters or other things mentioned in this story. I am using them without permission but I don't have any money anyway (student) so suing doesn't get anyone anywhere.**  
Pairings:** Dunno yet  
**Rating: R-** Just to be safe, I don't know what will happen in future chapters.  
**A/N: **I don't really know where this story came from. I saw the movie and the idea just wouldn't leave (even though I was trying to study for exams). Contains spoilers for Season 2 Evolution and PotC movie (plus I ripped the time device idea from an Angel episode).**  
**  
  
  
So what does this device do exactly? Scott asked looking warily at the object Forge had set on the table.  
  
Don't look so worried Forge chided as he fiddled with the wires connecting the two halves of the machine. The device resembled two stereo speakers, each covered with a fine mesh and filled with a multitude of wires and flashing lights. I promise this one is safe  
  
Scott didn't look convinced and neither did any of the other Xmen. They had assembled in the Danger Room to witness Forge's newest creation in action.   
All maintained a safe distance from the table, most leaning against the steel walls, looking utterly bored. Those with more experience were noticeably tense, particularly Kurt, whose experiences in the Middleverse and with the teleportation device made him very reluctant to be around Forge and his creations.  
  
Well I think it will create a time disruption so absolute that anything contained within the field will be suspended indefinitely, in complete stasis  
At the blank looks from the kids Forge sighed It'll stop time and freeze whatever is between forever   
A chorus of understanding echoed in the room.  
All the students were there, enforced attendence to what the Professor and Hank agreed would be an educational demonstration', but all the adults except Logan who was supervising, had opted out of another Forge spectacular.   
  
Ever since he had moved into the Mansion four months ago, for security against the anti-mutant sentiment that was brewing in the wider community, Forge had been inventing non-stop.   
Most of his creations were harmless although Kitty might disagree since it was only her ability to phase that saved her from the berserk waffle iron and pancake maker Forge had made to help her with her Home Ec assignments.   
This was his most radical experiment to date and although none of the teachers believed it would work, they thought that the ideas behind it would be interesting and it would keep them occupied for the afternoon.  
  
This device could revolutionise life as we know it. Food storage, medical procedures, energy consumption, the possibilities are endless! Forge babbled, warming to his topic I mean think about it. I need fresh mangos in Alaska, boom! There in two days and still as fresh as the day they were picked. Or if someone was dying of..  
  
Logan, standing near the door snorted Just get on with it Gizmo he ordered, arms folded, clearly wanting to get this over with quickly.  
  
Forge looked rather deflated and hurriedly turned back to the machine. He typed in the code and it sparked to life. A blue light appeared between the two boxes, swelling to form a transparent sphere.   
Wow. Pretty Jubilee remarked unenthusiastically  
  
Forge glared at her then placed a dropper of water above the sphere. Watch carefully he cautioned and squeezed a single drop out of the tube. It fell and froze immediately inside the blue light.   
The older students came closer although Kurt and Rogue stayed where they were, having learnt from their past experiences distance was best.  
  
Why is it stuck at the top Kitty asked, pushing her small face closer to the light It would be easier to see it if it was more in the middle  
  
If we wanted it in the middle I'd have to create the sphere around it, because it will freeze the instant it comes into the zone of influence. the teen explained, clearly pleased with the device's success  
  
Before they could marvel at the suspended droplet some more, disaster struck once again. The younger students, already bored by the proceedings, had begun to fool around.   
Bobby created a small ice sculpture of Jubilee, sans clothes. The pyrotechnic mutant, understandably enraged dove for him. Bobby, attempting to escape created an ice slide but was caught before he could use it.  
  
Jamie, distracted by the sight of Bobby being beaten to death with a tweety bird beanie, failed to see the ice. Instantly five Jamie's spilled across the floor, running into various other students. One careered into Sam, who caught by surprise, shot backwards, his mutant power activating instinctively.  
  
Unfortunately Beserker was standing just behind him. Ray bought up his hands in self defence, but couldn't stop the force of the Kentuckian's flight, which thrust him around and back.  
  
The charge in his hands shot out and struck the machine, the huge jolt of energy absorbed by the boxes. The sphere shattered and blasts of energy shot out in all directions accompanied by high pitched whines.   
Everyone hit the decks, trying to avoid the lancing rays of light as they screamed through the air. Forge reached for the machine, from where he crouched beneath the table but drew back when a beam narrowly missed his hand.  
  
Everybody stay down! Logan yelled over the noise Stay down and head for the exit!  
  
People began to crawl toward various doors, trying to keep all body parts on the floor but move quickly, resulting in a mass worm-like exodus.  
  
The blasts lessened, prompting Kitty to phase through the floor with Ray and Scott. Kurt had teleported out the moment the experiment went pear-shaped, grabbing the closest person to him, which happened to be Rahne. The others all began to stand and run for the many emergency exits, scattering across the room like ants.  
  
Suddenly something in the device exploded and a huge pulse of energy burst out across the room, heading straight for the main door. Some of the students, who had been trying to sneak out were right in its path. Jean created a barrier with difficulty, deflecting it at the last minute away from Bobby, Jubilee and Jamie.   
  
Unfortunately she deflected it straight at the wall, where Rogue was just picking herself up off the floor. No one had time to say anything to warn their teammate. They watched in horror as the energy rushed toward her.  
  
Rogue looked up and saw the blue light an instant before it struck her Oh fu... she got out and then she vanished


	2. Past problems

  
**A/N: **To all those who reviewed....THANK YOU!!!! I am just starting this writing caper and it is great to have such encouraging reviews. Please keep em coming.   
The next chapter may take a little longer as I have to do some research ( watch movie again..the things I sacrifice for my art :) but don't go away, cos the best is yet to come...maybe.  
  
  
  
Rogue finished landing with a thump.   
  
She felt as if she had been sucked backward through a very skinny hose pipe, her head spun and her ears rang from the speed and pressure she had been subjected to.   
Opening her eyes she amended that thought to a hose pipe full of sandpaper and razor blades.   
Okay, reminder to self she muttered kill Forge.   
  
Rolling over she saw what had broken her fall.   
  
A refuse heap, complete with rotting vegetables and broken crockery along with other things she'd prefer not to identify and there was a scrabbling sound she was sure was a rat.   
Change that to kill Forge very slowly she muttered through clenched teeth, carefully extracting herself from the mound.   
Seeing what was currently stuck to her leg she added With a cheese grater.   
  
After removing as much of the vile mess as she could Rogue stood up and looked around. She had absolutely no idea where she was. All around her were the high walls of brick houses, their mullioned windows reflecting brilliant sunlight in a multitude of sparkles far above her head.  
The air carried, despite the stench, a tang of salt and she could faintly hear the sound of waves breaking against the shore. That meant the sea. So number one I am now near the sea.  
Looking down she saw she was standing on a cobblestones. Okay.  
Also it was hot, a tropical warmth that was making her sweat inside her covering uniform. Which really wasn't helping with the smell.  
  
Ugh. I need a shower she grimaced, pushing her dirty hair away from her face.  
So I am in a place that is clearly not Bayville and not anywhere I've been been before.   
  
Big help you are brain   
  
Alright Rogue, she thought, use logic.  
  
Forge's dohickey manipulates time, and it got a huge energy increase when Ray hit it. So, she reasoned, since this clearly wasn't Disneyland, it was most likely she had been propelled into the past.   
Since when did my life get to a point where being shoved back in time was the most reasonable explanation? she wondered aloud, absently dusting herself off. She instantly regretted it when she felt the muck that coated her clothing.   
  
She wondered what to do now. The growling of her stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten lunch that day. Yet another thing she regretted.  
I'll have to start makin' a list she muttered.  
  
The dilemma was, should she stay here in the hopes of rescue or should go off and try to find food and a shower.   
  
If they even exist here, she thought darkly  
  
She didn't have any money or identification, not that either would help much if she was indeed in the past. Also her skin tight combat uniform wasn't exactly blend material so she'd need to find some clothes.   
How about some pixie dust while I'm at it she added to her impossible To Do list.  
  
Taking a deep breath, through her mouth to avoid the worst of the smell, Rogue closed her eyes. Focus. Calm.   
She opened her eyes and made a decision. She would investigate and try to find food and a place to stay.   
Besides, she reasoned I'm not even sure this is the past and I won't know until I look around.   
Glad to have at least made a decision, Rogue set out purposefully, trying to ignore her wretched state.  
Despite herself Rogue smiled. This place could turn out to be okay.  
  
************  
  
About five minutes later had Rogue changed her mind. This place sucked.   
  
The narrow filthy streets were surrounded by tall gloomy houses and everywhere there was the stench of rotting fish and seaweed. Dirty children ran past her, throwing rocks at each other and squatting to fish objects out of the overflowing gutter. Above her a window opened and a stream of water splashed onto the cobbles, at least she hoped it was water. The one positive note was that she was now sure she was in the past but that really didn't make her feel better about it.  
  
She had lifted a coat from a washing line between two houses, nimbly climbing up one side and down the other, silently thanking Kurt for his help with her acrobatic skills. The coat had once been bottle green but faded with age and wear to a pale grey green, the deep cuffs and tall collar ragged. It was ridiculously big, swallowing her small frame and too hot besides, but it did cover most of her uniform and gave her a measure of camouflage which was well worth the discomfort.  
  
A dog barked at her from an alleyway and a toothless old man sitting in a doorway cackled and mumbled as she walked past.  
This place is foul, she thought, no wonder they got all those plagues and diseases. But Rogue was no coward so she continue down the streets, unsure of where to go but looking for anywhere that she could get some food.  
  
She turned the corner, onto Lime street, according to the grubby wooden sign on the brick wall beside her. It led out onto a paved square, ringed by shops selling everything from pots and pans to cloth and shoes. There was also a low dark building, Rogue was sure was a tavern from the barrels outside and the large group of scruffy men lounging around in front of it.  
  
Looking around the square she decided nothing here would be of use to her. Rogue decided to keep going, maybe they had a soup kitchen or a homeless shelter. She remembered something from history about poor houses. Maybe they were the equivalent and they'd have one here.   
  
And maybe monkeys will fly outta my butt she thought wryly, smiling to herself.  
  
She failed to notice the men around the tavern had been watching her with great interest.  
  
Hey lassie. Why don't ye come over here and keep a man company? One of the louts from the grog shop doorway called.  
Rogue ignored them, walking past and trying despite her clothes, to look inconspicuous.  
As the men nudged one another and stood up, moving toward her she groaned inwardly. Attempt to avoid trouble a failure.   
  
, the speaker strode in front of her, cutting her off. Now where might ye be goin' in such a hurry? We just want to pass a word with ye poppet. No harm in that.  
  
Leave me alone she growled trying to get past him, a suppressing the twinge of fear rising in her belly.  
  
No. I don't think we'll be doin that, he leered at her showing broken yellowed teeth Not a'fore we've had a bit o' fun leastways  
  
Don't touch me she warned, shifting her feet into a fighting stance, trying to keep all the men in her sight at once. This proved very difficult because they had formed at loose circle around her, two of them always behind her. The feeling of dread was growing greater as they angled her into the dark alley beside the tavern. The only way to get past them was to shove them out of the way. She looked around for help but everyone was either ignoring her or making no effort to aid her.  
  
Now there's no need for that pretty filly. Just you be spreading your favours to me an' the lads. Tis no great task. Just a moment an' ye'll be back on your merry way  
  
When she didn't move his face twisted, and he nodded to the men behind her. Rogue spun and caught one behind the knee with her kick, and he dropped cursing and clutching his leg but before she could move again two other men grabbed her arms and held her tight. She twisted, trying to break their hold but she simply didn't have the body mass to shift them.  
  
Where's Freddy when you need him? she thought hysterically as the leader closed in.  
  
He pushed his thick face right next to hers and pressed the rest of his bulk against her, forcing her back into the two men behind her.  
  
I'm in the shit now she thought as she looked into his bloodshot eyes.  
  
Ye may be a skinny street rat, but ye can still spread for me wench he whispered in her ear, his sour breath dousing her face. One meaty hand buried itself in her hair, the other reached down to her thighs. Despite herself Rogue screamed, struggling frantically to escape. The man clamped one fat hand over her mouth and nose to silence her.   
  
Rogue tried to breathe, choking on the filth of his rough skin when all of a sudden it began, the electric thrill, the pulsing warmth, the euphoric current as with each beat of her heart she pulled more and more of the man's energy into her body. In front of her the lout went rigid, his skin greying, veins bulging across his forehead. He keeled over, striking the ground with a meaty thump.  
  
Rogue fell to her knees, not feeling as the rough stone tore her uniform. All of her attention was focused on controlling the energy, the mind of the man. As some of his greasy thoughts brushed hers she gagged, desperately forcing the bile down.  
  
one of the men stammered in horror while the others backed away from Rogue and their fallen friend. In her head the man she had absorbed seem to shrink from her too.  
  
Oh fuck she ground out around her clenched teeth, still clutching her stomach.  
  
The men ran back into the square shouting Witch! Witchcraft! at the top of their lungs. Two soldiers who had been patrolling the area, strode over to investigate.  
  
With a sinking feeling in her stomach quite apart from the nausea caused by the man's filthy personality she watched the two guards approach. The shit just kept getting deeper.  
  
  
TBC  
  
  
  



	3. Location difficulties

**  
  
A/N: **Okay. I apologise for the lateness of this but uni work swamped my fragile brain for a while there. But now I am back and worse than ever....(woohoo!). This one is a bit shorter than I wanted but it was originally too long so I split it up. Hopefully the next one will be longer.  
  
Again big big thanks to everyone who reviewed. I can't tell you how fantastic it is to know that people are actually reading (and even liking) this story. Please keep em comin. I am a greedy greedy woman.  
***********  
  
  
  
**Rogue was led inside the huge stone fortress, her captors marching either side of her, a painful ringing in her ears and a twisted pain in her gut. The heavy metal of the manacles about her wrists dragged on her shoulders and chafed her pale skin.  
  
The fort crouched like a huge toad on the top of the promontory, guarding the mouth of the harbour against enemy attack. The walls were sheer grey stone, stained with age and salt but still thick and bleak. Fort Charles was the name supplied by her would be molester and she felt his fear at being captive within its solid confines.   
  
As she was forced through the gates she saw the Union Jack stretched in the strong winds that had suddenly sprung up. English but not England she thought as she stumbled along. Definitely not England judging from the heat and palm trees she had seen on her way here. Even though she had been hauled through the streets of what appeared to be a considerable sized town, she still had no clue where or when she was. Although the clothes were giving her the depressing hints that it was nowhere she could get out of in a hurry. Add to this the fact she had just been arrested for witchcraft and she was beginning to feel just a little bit apprehensive about her current location.  
  
Port Royale the voice in her head supplied, on the island of Jamaica.  
  
Jamaica? she thought incredulously But when? She vaguely remembered something about a colony but what dates escaped her. She prodded the personality but he didn't seem to know.  
The moron probably can't even count she thought bitterly.  
  
The red-coated guards marched her along a colonnaded walk, toward the centre of the fort. She saw more soldiers drilling in the main courtyard and others cleaning weapons, polishing boots and doing other military busy work. Not a single one so much as glanced up as she was dragged past.  
  
They approached a man seated behind a sloping wooden table. Her two captors stamped to a halt in front of it, forcing Rogue to stop between them.   
The man continued writing, his quill moving across the page with a dry scritch scratch noise. The elaborately curled grey hair perched on his head quivered gently with every stroke of his pen.   
Eventually, without raising his eyes he asked in a bored voice   
  
Yes corporal. What have got for me now? Another desperate rogue?  
  
In spite of everything, Rogue still had to suppress a laugh at his unwitting accuracy.  
  
Young female sir. Arrested down by Planters Square.  
  
What is the charge?  
  
Witchcraft sir.  
  
The man looked up then and seeing Rogue his eyes widened, taking in her attire and her bedraggled state. Mouth twisted in a sneer his small beady eyes considered her.   
  
Well she certainly looks unnatural, he said, focusing on her hair. He looked back at the soldier  
I assume there are witnesses?  
  
Yes sir, it was witnessed by myself and Corporal Hobbs, she put a curse on a man who tried to detain her and he dropped dead in the street  
  
He ain't dead! Rogue interjected angrily And you weren't even there! They attacked me. I'm the victim here.  
  
Silence girl the official snapped coldly You are to speak when spoken to.  
  
Rogue opened her mouth to retort but one of the soldiers cuffed her sharply across the back of the head. Inwardly fuming she closed her mouth and ground her teeth. She knew arguing with this man was not the smartest thing to do but she couldn't help herself.   
All of a sudden a pain exploded behind her eyes, fading quickly to a dull ache but bringing also the incomprehensible mutterings of a crowd of people. The personalities she had absorbed in the past, she realised, all talking at once. Deliberately she pushed them back, until she could no longer hear the confused chatter.  
  
Focusing once more on the outside world she saw the man had risen from his seat in order to inspect her more closely.   
He walked around her, frowning at her uniform where the position of her hands had forced her pilfered coat open.   
Rogue desperately wished for about the thousandth time that day that she was wearing something other than spandex. Luckily the filth that coated her head had obscured the streak in her hair, which was one less thing to get her into trouble. But she figured she was doing just fine in the trouble stakes without it.  
The official appeared to reach a decision and met the eyes of the soldier on her left.  
  
Lock her up corporal. Her trial will be set for the day after tomorrow  
  
Where should we put her sir? Women's cells are full up  
  
The small man look nonplussed, but he recovered quickly and looking her over again with that same disdainful frown he said,  
Well she's hardly a normal woman, she can go into the men's cells.   
  
He turned away and sat back upon his stool, clearly seeing the matter as finished.  
  
Which cell sir? the corporal asked .  
  
The official didn't even bother to look up, merely waving his hand in the direction of the cells.  
  
Put her in with that Sparrow person arrested this morning.  
  
The soldiers saluted, turning smartly and dragging a very reluctant Rogue away with them.  
  
  
  
TBC  
  



	4. Cellmates and cannonballs

**A/N: ** To all of you who have reviewed and especially those who keep on reviewing...I love you and want to have your babies.   
Ok maybe not the babies but I am sure about the love. It is so fantastic to have the encouragement...I'm getting all teary here.   
Alright I'm back. Apologises for the extreme lateness of this chapter but I was sprung by a take home exam which sucked all my grey matter out through my eyeballs. It is also waaaaayy longer than I anticipated but what can ya do?  
Enough crap from me, onwards and outwards(my favourite direction).  
  
*********************  
  
  
  
Rogue was flung unceremoniously into a cell, landing painfully on the cold flagstones. The guards locked the iron door and marched off quickly while Rogue tried to sit up. She managed it with difficulty due to all the bruises and strained muscles she'd got since arriving in where ever the hell this was.   
Or whenever the hell she muttered wincing as her shoulder muscles protested.   
  
The guards had neglected to take her wrist shackles off so she was left to wriggle about as best she could to relieve the pain. Having absolutely no success she then flexed her shoulders and using a trick she'd picked up from Mystique, she slid her body through her linked hands, bringing them to the front of her body. With the pressure relived she felt slightly more comfortable, although one a scale of one to ten she still felt like shit.  
  
Well well, what're you doing in here? a voice greeted her from behind.  
  
Rogue closed her eyes and sighed she just couldn't deal with anymore of this shit. It was too weird, even for her.  
  
Oh fuck off! she breathed irritably not turning around I've had a really crappy day so far and if ya piss me off anymore I'm gonna beat ya to death. So just shut up and leave me alone!   
  
Well no need for that. Only making conversation. People just don't have any manners, all I offer is a kind greeting and a threat's my reply   
  
Just shut up! Rogue moaned laying back upon the cold stone, the shock from her travel and the absorption draining all her remaining energy.   
  
Slowly she focused her breathing, calming her body and relaxing her mind, shutting out the babbling of her cellmate. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. I will not go insane. I am calm and focused. I may be trapped in the distant past, alone, tired, hungry, filthy and accused of witchcraft but I am in control. I may be locked in a cell with a strange criminal but I am calm.   
Giving up on the stupid relaxation exercise she opened her eyes. The heavy stone slabs of the ceiling met her gaze and she sighed again. she whispered Still not a dream  
  
Realising her cellmate had gone quiet she risked a look around. Whoever it was leaning comfortably against the stone wall, legs crossed at the ankle and a small tricorn hat pulled down over his eyes.  
  
Obviously siesta time at the old jailhouse or my cellmate is Mr I'm so relaxed with the whole imprisonment thing that you could cool tea on my belly. Rogue scowled at him, just to be sure but he made no further effort to talk to her.  
  
Slightly reassured by this she decided to take a closer look at her surroundings.   
The cell was fairly small and almost perfectly square. The front and part of each side was made from a flat lattice of iron giving a clear view into each cell from the outside and between the different cells. The rear was of the same rough grey stone as the floor with a small ledge running the length of it, half of which was occupied by her new roommate. Straw was scattered across the floor and piled in the corners of the ledge. Her new friend' appeared to be using some as a pillow against his back.  
  
Walking toward the opposite wall she noticed it was covered in graffiti. She traced her gloved fingers, with difficulty because of her shackles over the words carved into the rough grey stone. Curses and prayers and tallies marking the days spent by the criminals in this cage. They made a cold chill race along her spine so she turned away from them and her gaze was caught once more on her cellmate.   
From what she could see around his hat and baggy clothing he was not a big man, but the arms crossed over his stomach showed a wiry strength and his hands bore the calluses of hard work. He shifted and she quickly swept her eyes away, glancing instead out of the small window above him, also covered by an iron grille, that looked out over the harbour below and let the late afternoon sun filter into the cramped prison.  
  
The next to theirs was filled with a sullen looking group of men all of whom were filthy and ragged. They sat talking amongst themselves in mutters and Rogue thought they looked born guilty. They probably think the same about me she though wryly.  
  
She yawned, still exhausted and slowed walked to the other end of the ledge and sat. It felt good to rest for a moment. She was sore all over and the angry mutters of Mr Fat Hands was giving her a headache. He kept switching from prayers to God to rescue him and curses directed at her, some of which she wasn't quite clear about. Was it insulting to be called strumpet of Beelzebub? It sounded insulting but she didn't understand two of the three words used so she decided just to ignore it.  
The man's psyche seemed to realise her indifference and changed tactics. He began whispering terrible things about the torture of witches and what was in store for her. She wanted to protest that she was American and she had rights but as she had swiftly come to realise none of those things mattered here. In fact she wondered if America even existed yet. Some of the things he was saying were just to horrible to contemplate. The rack? This wasn't the Middle Ages, surely they wouldn't still be using something like that. And she didn't even want to know what thumb screws were.  
  
With these grim thoughts and the chatter in her head creating half formed fancies behind her eyes she attempted to rest which was difficult enough already with the hard, damp stone freezing her bones and dirty straw which scratched and irritated her bruised skin. Nevertheless Rogue leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Exhaustion won over apprehension and she dropped into a light doze.  
  
*****************  
  
Rogue jolted awake suddenly what seemed like ages later although it couldn't have been more than a few hours judging from the sky outside.  
  
From what she could see through the small window it was night and strangely a dense fog filled the air. She wasn't sure if fog was supposed to exist in the tropics but there was fog outside so she wasn't going to question it.   
It had also gotten colder, the chill in the air adding to the cool of the stone cell and causing her to shiver. She had somehow slid down to lie horizontal on the stone ledge, her knees curled up to her stomach.  
Torches had been lit and stood in iron brackets along the wall outside the cells, their light casting flickering shadow and gold across the prison but they did little to dispel either the darkness or the cold.  
The man in her cell was seated exactly as before and he didn't appear to have moved. Good, she thought I wouldn't want him to have tried anything while I was asleep. Not that he could have done anything she added darkly, Not with my powers.  
  
She could hear sounds, low murmurs and whistles. Sitting up, a painful process with all her bruises, she looked for the source and quickly found it.  
  
The men in the cell next to hers were crowded around the door, arms waving through the bars at a dog that stood on the other side. It was the smartest looking dog Rogue had ever seen, regarding the scrambling desperate men from under shaggy grey brows. It had a big metal ring in its mouth from which hung several large keys. The door keys she realised quickly.   
  
They have a dog guarding the doorkeys. Okay.   
  
Rogue figured she had stopped being judgemental about one disaster ago but it still seemed a stupid idea. What if it dropped them or ran off and tried to bury them?   
  
Taking another look at the dog she changed her mind. It looked like it knew what it was doing, she swore she'd never seen an animal look that smug before. Obviously the other prisoners didn't realise this because they kept on calling and whistling.  
  
You can keep doing that forever, the dog is never going to move came a smooth voice from beside her. Her roommate was awake and apparently as unimpressed with the efforts of the others as the dog was.  
  
One of the men turned toward then and his eyes shone with fear and desperation.  
  
Oh excuse us if we haven't resigned ourselves to the gallows just yet he retorted and rejoined his fellows.  
  
Her cellmate said nothing, merely grinning beneath the brim of his hat, as if he saw a joke none of the others did. Rogue's curiosity was aroused by this man, his confidence particularly in the face of his imprisonment fascinated her.  
She half hoped he would attempt to talk to her again but he remained irritatingly silent. Letting out a pointed sigh she leaned back. She shouldn't want to talk to him anyway, she had to focus on getting out of here and back home in one piece.   
  
Nothing disturbed the quiet of the night outside the jail. Not even the sound of crickets or cicadas broke the stillness. It was a little creepy Rogue realised and there was a heavy sense of foreboding in the air.  
  
Shivering she rubbed her arms and curled herself against the wall, as far from her cellmate as possible. He showed no more signs of moving but now she knew he was awake she was a little more cautious.  
There was a faint _pop fizz_ sound, like someone setting off a firework in the distance. It was followed by another and another and Rogue was just beginning to wonder what they were when an explosion shattered the quiet of the night and rocked the wall of the fortress. Shouts and screams could be heard above them as the soldiers reacted to the attack.  
  
What is it? Rogue demanded scared out of her wits for about the fifth time that day.  
  
her cellmate answered, not moving from his prone position. But when another blast rocked the prison and he sat up , listening intently.  
  
I know those guns he said, springing up and standing to stare out between the rusty grill at the back of their cell.   
  
Its the Pearl he breathed, a note of reverence in his tone. Before Rogue could ask what the hell that meant one of the other prisoners spoke.  
  
The Black Pearl ? he whispered in awe, coming to the grille that separated their cells. The other men had ceased their enticements with the first shot and also drew close.  
  
I've heard stories. he continued, darting a conspiratorial look between his friends and her cellmate. She's been preying on ships and settlements for near ten years. Never leaves any survivors.  
  
The other men nodded, and Rogue wondered not for the first time that day, what the hell was going on. She had no idea what they were talking about but from attitudes of the men they could've been telling ghost stories.   
  
The man looked back over his shoulder with the same mocking grin.  
  
No survivors? he said, shooting Rogue a brief glance before continuing Then where do the stories come from I wonder?  
  
The other men looked confused at this and the man's smile grew wider, clearly enjoying his superior intelligence. Or what he thought was his superior intelligence Rogue reflected sourly.   
  
Flinching as another cannonball struck and several blasts issued from the guns on the wall adjacent, Rogue knew that they were talking about what ever was attacking them and she figured it must be a ship but she didn't get the reactions of all the men. Maybe it was just the enemy had a bad reputation. At least she hoped that was all it was but that annoying voice, her own this time, at the back of her head was telling her this was wishful thinking.   
Annoying as he was, this guy seemed to know what was going on so Rogue decided he was her best chance for making sense of it all.  
  
Does this happen often here? she shouted over the din of the cannon fire.  
  
He completely ignored her, intent on watching whatever was happening outside. Gritting her teeth she yelled again.  
  
Hey I'm talking to you!  
  
Nothing. She was really mad now and had to take a deep breath to stop herself from bitch slapping him across the back of the head. Satisfying as it was it wouldn't probably convince him to give her information, which, she reminded herself sternly, was what she needed.  
  
Suddenly the whistle of a cannonball became louder than before. Rogue was just turning towards the wall, when the man threw himself atop her, pushing her to the floor and covering her body with his. An instant later the back of the cell exploded inwards with a shower of red hot sparks. Grit showered down over Rogue and her protector, filling her nose and mouth which made her cough repeatedly.  
As soon as she was sure the danger had passed she shoved him off. He rolled nimbly to his feet, ignoring her scowl. He was just lucky she was mostly covered up or his heroics could have ended very badly. Shaken by the contact and by the constant gunfire, she backed away, scared of what might happen if he tried to touch her. For his part the man just looked at her with a bemused expression and then, apparently shrugging off her ungrateful attitude, turned to see what damage had been done.  
  
The shot had blown out a good portion of the back wall of the other cell and the gleeful dirty men poured out, one pausing to comment to her cellmate as he scrambled over the debris,  
  
My sympathies friend, you've no manner of luck at all.   
  
Now that was just unnecessary Rogue said to his back.   
From his slumped shoulders and position staring out of the small hole in the back of their cell she could recognise his despair. Seems she wasn't the only one who was unlucky. She could understand his feelings, getting out of here would solve a lot of her most pressing problems. But she was becoming more and more resigned to the fact that the universe was out to get her.  
  
All of sudden the man straightened and turned toward her a gleam in his eyes. Rogue backed away, nervous of his intentions but he moved past her without even seeming to notice her.  
Rogue watched in bemusement as he rushed to the front of the cell, thrusting his hands through the bars to grasp the bone the other men had used to entice the dog. The mangy creature was huddled under a bench against the wall but he looked over as the man waved the bone at him.  
He whistled and called softly.  
  
Come on doggy.  
  
Just when Rogue was about to point out the uselessness of his actions the animal actually moved toward him, keys still held tightly in its mouth. Seeing this she shut her mouth. Someone was definitely out to get her.  
  
The dog was crawling slowly to them on its belly and the man continued to coax it saying,  
  
It's just you and me now. It's you and ol' Jack , come on. Come on, good boy. That's it, good boy, come on! The dog was almost within reaching distance and Rogue sat forward, beginning to think it might actually work.   
Her cellmate, who was apparently called Jack, kept up with his honeyed whispers.  
  
Bit closer, bit closer. That's it, that's it, doggy. Come on you filthy, slimy, mangy cur. he said never changing his tone or his ingratiating smile.  
A crash from above broke the spell and the dog jumped up and scampered away down the corridor the heavy ring clasped tightly in his mouth.  
  
Jack stretched his arms imploringly, forlornly waving the bone. _  
_  
No, no, no, no, no, I didn't mean it. I didn't... he called desperately after the fleeing animal.   
He slumped forward, arms hanging through the bars and his forehead resting against the grimy metal.  
  
The clatter that had frightened the dog grew louder and a red coated soldier tumbled down the stairs and landed in a crumpled heap at the bottom.  
Two sets of boots clomped down after him and two men appeared, one after looking around noting with disappointment This ain't the armoury.  
  
The other had noticed her cellmate and a vicious smile curled his lips, revealing yellowed teeth. Rogue drew back into the shadows, breathing quietly and suddenly very conscious of her bound hands. If they attacked she would be a distinct disadvantage and she doubted her cellmate would do much to help her, so she tired to stay as still and quiet as possible to avoid their attention.  
  
He approached the cell, where Jack was now standing, his hands gripping the bars tightly. His hair hung in dreadlocks around his face which was covered with a light pattern of scars.  
  
Well, well, well, look what we have here Twigg. he said addressing his companion who had joined him, Captain Jack Sparrow.  
The other man, his head half covered by a ridiculous looking stocking cap, spat on the ground in front of Jack.  
  
Last time I saw you, he said cruelly you were all alone on a godforsaken island, shrinking into the distance. His fortunes aren't improved much. he shared a grin with his friend.  
  
Jack took their insults and smiled at them, seeming not much worse off for being behind bars.  
  
Worry about your own fortunes, gentlemen. he cautioned The deepest circle of Hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers.  
  
Dreadlocks snarled and grabbed Jack's throat. The smaller man leaned back to ease the force of the hold and drew Dready's arm into the moonlight.   
Rogue barely suppressed a gasp. Where the moonlight touched the marauder's arm, bone and rotted cloth and muscle were revealed where the flesh had been. It looked like he had been dead for a month.   
She was seriously freaked now. Nothing she had been through had prepared her for dead rotting pirates that walked around and tried to strangle people.  
Jack seemed much less fazed than she was.  
  
So there is a curse. That's interesting. he said in tones of having had a story confirmed.  
  
You know nothing of Hell. Dreadlocks growled, roughly releasing him. He turned and both men stalked out, swiftly ascending the stairs and disappearing from view.  
  
Jack remained where he was, gazing off into the distance.  
  
****That's very interesting. he murmured thoughtfully.  
  
The sound of the guns continued in the night.  
  
Rogue spoke into the silence after a while, Freaky skeleton pirates. That's different.   
  
  
TBC  
  



	5. Getting acquainted and angry

**A/N: **Sorry about the huge delay with updates but hopefully this chapter is long enough to make up for it. I'm on break for a while so updates will be slow in coming but please all bear with me. I promise to be good in the new year.  
  
As usual a BIG! thanks to all you reviewers specially Pixy who is the most insistent and prolific reviewer of all (read: You are my total hero and I have a shrine to you on my wall).  
  
Without further ado..  
  
***************  
  
  
  
Another cannon blast echoed above the screams and crackle of flames from the town below.  
  
Jack remained staring out after the cursed men, lost in thought.  
  
Abruptly he shook his head, as if coming out of a trance and turned to her. She met his eyes as best she could in the darkness, one eyebrow raised and in no way showing the fact that she was a quivering mass of jelly inside.  
  
When he didn't respond she turned away and sat back against the wall, the cold stone causing the skin on her back to ache, even through her clothes.  
  
She absently examined her shackles and found that they were actually quite loose around her wrists. The thick iron cuffs had obviously been made for bigger hands. With great care she pulled off one glove and squeezed her hand so that it was almost the width of her wrist. Gently, aware of the delicate bones in her hand, she slid the heavy iron down across her hand and off into her lap.   
This small victory lightened her spirits inordinately and she repeated the process on the other hand. Glad to be finally free she put her gloves back on and then rubbed her wrists to relieve the tension from the heavy weight that had rested there for several hours. Carelessly she dumped the heavy cuffs and chains onto the floor. They made a heavy clink as they settled, a sound oddly louder than it should have been. Rogue suddenly became aware of the relative silence of the night.  
  
She realised the gunfire and explosions had stopped but didn't know why. Maybe they had defeated the enemy. But if they were the same as Dreadlocks and his buddy she doubted it. They had more likely got bored and left.  
  
She was considering this while absently rubbing her wrists when her cellmate spoke, startling her.  
  
You're a steady one girl, many's the hardened seafarer who's run from those men. And that was before they were cursed.  
  
She looked up but he was still staring out the window. Rogue bristled at this and his condescending use of girl. This guy had no idea who he was dealing with. Her anger served to chase away the last lingering shreds of fear and apprehension from the attack and all that had followed.  
  
Yeah, well I don't scare that easy she shot back, refusing to stare at his turned back and instead looking out into the corridor of the prison at the torch burning fitfully in the wall bracket. Stupid time period doesn't even have proper lighting she thought petulantly, her anger dwindling to a low grade irritation at her situation.  
  
Jack turned at her answer and she couldn't see his face clearly in the gloom until he moved again and then she saw his lip curled into a half smile, illuminated by the moonlight washing over part of the cell. It dampened her irritation, mostly because it was not the reaction she expected but also because that expression made him look very attractive. It was disconcerting realising this when she was trying to be mad at him. Narrowing her eyes she resolved to ignore her feelings. She was very good at it after all.  
  
What's your name girl? he asked, still with that half smile, jolting her out of her musings.  
  
What's yours? she countered instantly.  
  
Captain Jack Sparrow at your service he declared extravagantly. He seemed to be waiting for a reaction and when she didn't give one he looked disappointed.  
  
Not heard of me then? he asked hopefully.  
  
Should I have?   
  
Well I am one of the most famous pirates in the Caribbean and for that matter the world he added grandiosely. She merely raised an eyebrow and he subsided, looking affronted.  
  
You never answered my question lass. Your name?  
  
she answered curtly, realising he probably wouldn't stop until she told it to him.  
  
So are you a pirate Miss Rogue? he asked then when she didn't answer he continued on regardless, clearly mocking her, That's a fine pirate name if ever I heard one. Name like that could strike fear into the hearts of honest men and no mistake.  
  
Rogue flinched infinitesimally, remembering that she did inspire fear in most people she met. Shaking it off she glared over at the grinning man and replied coldly.  
  
.  
  
Then what are you? Excuse my presumption but they don't put just anyone in these cells. They save them for the worst blackhearted scoundrels they do. Only the worst mind you he grinned at her, and continued that's why I'm in here. I'm one of the worst pirates in the Caribbean.  
  
Well that would explain why you're in here Rogue muttered Only really crap pirates get caught and locked in jails  
  
Jack looked almost hurt at her comment and his brows lowered in annoyance, the first she had seen from him. His emotions were quicksilver, she realised, rather like her own often were.  
  
So what are you then? he asked shortly, one hand resting on the sash at his waist. His fingers curled around some invisible object, as if he was used to carrying something there.  
  
His irritation fuelled her own. Rogue hated people prying and this guy was not in her good books to begin with. _Even if he did try to save your life _a traitorous voice whispered but she ignored it.  
  
I'm a mutant she bit out rage lacing her tone  
  
A what?  
  
A mutie. A freak. A gene reject Rogue replied, each insult snapping from her lips as she got more and more worked up. Life was kicking her in the guts and then this guy was just the icing on the goddamned cake.  
  
Jack blinked, slightly taken aback by her vehemence but his face showed only puzzlement, not the hatred or scorn she had half expected.  
  
I don't know what your talking about dovey. None of those fancy words mean anything to me.   
  
At her furious glare he raised both hands, in defence and went on placatingly,  
  
But I can judge from your tone that you are not counted among the blessed in society.  
  
He smiled, flashing gold and yellow teeth, And if that be the case you find yourself in good company. The forces of law and order have no great fondness for me either, as you can see he finished, gesturing at the cell around them.  
  
Rogue relaxed and was moderately embarrassed at her outburst. She was so much more emotional now, every word bringing a reaction but she reasoned that she had cause to be a little moody.   
  
Dropping her eyes from his, she settled back against the wall and picked at the straw caught in her pants.  
  
Yeah. Me an' the law have never been on the best of terms she said wryly, not looking up but smiling none the less.  
  
Your accent is strange. Where do you hail from? he asked suddenly, back to his probing questions and ruining the tender peace between them.  
  
I was going to ask you the same question she responded snarkily.  
  
It was his turn to be disconcerted by her questions. He looked evasive, shifting his eyes from hers for the first time.  
  
I'm not from anyplace in particular. he responded airily I like to be free, go where the tide takes me.  
  
And where might that be? she asked, not relenting now she had him even a little off balance.   
  
Answer my question and I'll answer yours he replied, smoothly steering the conversation out of her hands.  
  
You'll never have heard where I'm from. she snapped angrily, annoyed that he had once again turned the tables on her.  
  
I might surprise you. I've been to a great many places he replied meeting her challenge.  
  
  
  
He blinked but didn't miss a beat.  
  
Ah Mississippi, I know it well. My mother's cousin married a girl from Mississippi. Big, blonde woman, loved to hunt ostriches  
  
Rogue said disbelievingly   
  
At his nod she continued, asking, with a falsely sweet smile So how did you find the weather? Too cold? And did you think the pygmy people of Jackson were friendly? What about queen Irene of Caldecott? Did you see her famous palace?   
  
I didn't care much for the snow and ice, I'm more of a warm weather fellow. I didn't have much haul with the natives but Queen Irene knows me well. Had tea with her of an afternoon. She's good friends with my mother's cousin's wife.  
  
The one who rides ostriches?.  
  
The very same. he finished grinning confidently.  
  
Rogue smirked at him Mississippi is about as hot as here and there ain't no Queen of Caldecott. she said triumphantly. And if your mother's cousin's wife rides ostriches she continued, she must be a damn site thinner than any of the folks I ever saw down there.  
  
Aye she's a slip of a girl he said trying to salvage his story.  
  
There ain't no ostriches in Mississippi she said quellingly, her gaze direct and uncompromising.  
  
Jack looked nonplussed and closed his mouth. Clearly he didn't like being tricked. Or caught off guard. Rogue filed this away in her memory. It might be of use later on. Although at the rate she was going, later on might be considerably sooner than usual.  
  
Jack recovered quickly and fired off another question at her.  
  
What have they put you in here for? You never did tell me.  
  
Why do you keep asking all these questions!?' she demanded irritably. He was beginning to annoy her and she wasn't sure she wanted to go into the whole arrest, incarceration, imminent torture thing when she had just stopped thinking about it. _No more than you deserve you painted whore_ whispered fatty in the back of her mind. She imagined squishing his presence like a bug and he shut up. At least she could deal with some problems. Where did he get off calling people whores anyway? In her case it was insulting and completely untrue. So there she thought at him, mentally squishing his personality a little more.  
  
Jack cleared his throat and she was brought back to the cell and his questioning expression.  
  
Rogue dropped her gaze, suddenly worried. She remembered what Fat Hands had said about witches and even what with he currently thought about her taken out, it sounded pretty bad. She felt a little wary of revealing her supposed crime to anyone. Even her fellow prisoner. Especially her fellow prisoner. Particularly one who she knew nothing about, she realised. Even though he now knew quite a bit about her.  
  
Jack was still regarding her with one eyebrow raised. From what she had seen of him already he'd find out somehow even if she didn't tell him.  
  
she mumbled sullenly.  
  
Jack asked, not catching her low murmur.  
  
she snapped, much louder this time.  
  
Jack looked her up and down and then, to her surprise, burst out laughing.  
  
Rogue felt affronted, not really understanding why but going with the emotion none the less.  
  
That is not what I thought you'd say. Been cursing faithless lovers? Or were you curdling the milk? Did a toff get a boil on her arse and blame it on you? He laughed and shook his head Only in the Caribbean. I knew there was a reason I stayed around here.  
  
Rogue didn't answer sending him a stony glare that only made him chuckle more.  
  
So they put you in here to soften you up. Better bonfire fodder hmm?  
  
He grinned at her scowl, clearly delighting in teasing her.  
  
Don't take on girl. I'm cautious enough of your looks to treat you careful and if you are a witch well, you've nothing to fear from me.  
  
You'd better be careful. Rogue warned angrily One touch and I could suck the life right out of your body. **  
  
**Jack snorted in disbelief, clearly thinking she was boasting.  
  
Rogue was stung by this. She admitted she had grown used to people knowing her powers and being properly respectful of them and it needled her that this loony pirate didn't believe her. She was sorely tempted to give him a little demonstration but what with fat rapist man mooching around her mind plus the residue from her trip here, she didn't want anymore noise in her head.  
  
A bell sounding outside interrupted them and they both looked toward the window. Day was upon them and they had barely noticed. Jack abruptly leapt up, and paced around the cell.  
  
What time is it? Late, late...too late. he muttered still striding about.  
  
What's wrong? Rogue asked, concerned at his sudden change of demeanour.  
  
It's already morning! he said gesturing out the window.  
  
Yeah I can see that she answered tartly. When he kept pacing she signed melodramatically.  
  
What's so wrong with it being morning? Do our freaky friends gain super powers? Do you turn into a frog? she asked sarcastically.  
  
Jack stopped and faced her Morning means that in a few hours those guards are going to come and take me to that pretty gallows as sits in the yard and string me up like rigging from the mast and they will probably do the same to you.  
  
I have to have a trial first she retorted, worry making her words sharper. They're going to try me and find that I am innocent and you'll be the only one strung out.   
  
He laughed at her, only this time it was a cold, mocking laugh, quite unlike his earlier chuckles.  
  
Do you know how they try witches here lass? he asked.  
  
When she shook her head he continued, Its no pretty thing and I've seen some of the worst torments man can create.  
  
His voice dropped and became ominously soft.   
  
They begin by asking you to confess. If you deny it they ask again. If you deny it enough they try to persuade you to confess he said persuade' drawn out mockingly as he flashed a gold tooth at her. Rogue glared back, refusing to be spooked.  
  
There are many ways, but the one favoured here is the Press Yard he said malevolently.  
  
He obviously expected her to know what the Press Yard was but she had no clue. What did newspapers have to do with torture? Her brain was refusing to acknowledge a connection between grapes and torture either through example or inclusion. Covering her ignorance, which would only raise more questions and that was the last thing she wanted, she answered curtly,  
  
Is that all? If you wanna scare me ya gonna have to do better than that.  
  
Jack glared at her and she glared right back, angry brown eyes meeting angry green. Neither was willing to look away and Rogue knew that she'd let her eyes fall out before she let him win. She repressed the voice that said this was juvenile. She was having to do a lot of that lately.   
  
The heavy tramp of feet interrupted their staring match. They both turned toward the noise and saw two guards enter the prison. Rogue retreated further into the corner, hunching her body up inside her enormous coat and warily watching the newcomers.   
  
They were an odd pair. One was fat while the other was slender but they conversed easily, as men who had spent long hours in each others company. They shook their heads over the dead guard, who Rogue had virtually forgotten. That brought her up short when she realised there had been a dead guy lying not far away and she had ignored it. This place was no good for her.  
  
They looked like the clean up crew, come to assess the damage done in the attack. Jack seemed to recognise them and lay down, pretending to be asleep. He clearly wanted to avoid any conversation with them. Rogue wondered why, again realising she knew so little about him.   
  
They entered the cell next door and examined the hole made by the cannonball.  
  
Most of em have gone muttered one, frowning out at the daylight.  
  
They'll soon be caught again. stated his companion confidently, adjusting his red coat.  
  
They looked over at Rogue's cell and for the first time seemed to noticed Jack lying on the floor.   
  
D' think he's dead?' the first one asked, glancing at his associate.  
  
The fatter man scrutinised him carefully, crinkling his brow in thought.   
  
I don't know. He could be. There ain't no marks on him but many's the man who's died o' fright after a battle like last night. he said.  
  
Jack coughed loudly and rolled over, startling both men who half lowered their guns before realising where the noise came from.   
  
The fatter smiled He's just asleep he said, as if he had known it all along.  
  
Her cellmate began to snore loudly, backing up this statement. Rogue was sure that it was wounded pride rather than self preservation that had prompted this. It was probably because they thought he had died of fright. Rogue snorted softly, realising too late that this brought their attention down on her.  
  
Hang about! the thinner said peering in at her. There's a woman in there!  
  
Rogue wondered how they could all tell. She wasn't exactly dressed like a girl and she didn't think with all the muck still coating various parts of her anatomy that she could be very attractive but still all the guys she came into contact with could tell. Guys in the past must be more perceptive than the guys in her time. Although only marginally, she amended looking back at the two specimens outside her cell.  
  
What of it? demanded his companion, attempting a superior air and failing dismally. He was trying to act not only as if he knew, but as if it was a normal occurrence which Rogue was willing to bet dollars to pesos it wasn't.  
  
Well this isn't the female cells. And she shouldn't be in the cells with a man. It promotes licentious behaviour among the prisoners having men and women in the same cell. he said earnestly.  
  
The other paused considering this. At last he spoke, grudgingly You may be right. But it makes no matter a cos the female cells was all destroyed in the attack. So even if we wanted to move her we couldn't.  
  
The other opened his mouth clearly ready to argue the matter when a call from above made them both straighten up.  
  
You two get up here now! The Commodore's ordered men to clean up down at the docks and you're on guard detail!  
  
The two men exchanged weary glances but picked up their dead comrade and marched off up the stairs, struggling and arguing as they tried to negotiate the narrow passage.  
  
Rogue watched them go and then turned to her companion saying,  
  
You can stop pretending now. The big bad soldiers have gone.  
  
Jack continued snoring, deliberately annoying her or so she felt. Rogue searched around and found the bone he had used before on the dog lying on the floor near her feet. She picked it up and tossed it at him. It hit him dead between the shoulders and he sat up, a furious look on his face.  
  
She smirked at him and he dropped the bone, muttering curses under his breath.  
  
You'd better be careful girl he warned rubbing his back. and scowling at her. She scowled back, unrepentant.  
  
Why were you pretending to be asleep? If you're not a coward then you would've faced them. They weren't that scary she finished sarcastically.  
  
My reasons are my own. he muttered darkly, I noticed you were in no hurry to introduce yourself our two fine Redcoats he continued, You've no call to be talking of cowardice **girl** he practically sneered. Why didn't you tell them you were innocent hmm? Or maybe use your wondrous craft to escape?  
  
Why didn't the greatest pirate in the Caribbean find a way to escape? The losers in the next cell got away free and your still stuck in here! she returned angrily.  
  
Why do you keep tormenting me? he shouted in frustration.  
  
Why do you keep tormenting **me**? She shot back childishly.  
  
He actually growled at her, sounding oddly like Logan for an instant. Rogue ignored the brief stab of homesickness and continued glaring at him, refusing to give an inch to this stubborn, rude, prying moron. He thought he was so in control and so much smarter than her. Well he was just as screwed as she was.  
  
He turned and stormed across the cell, but he failed to see the bone he had left on the floor after she had thrown it. He trod on it and it rolled from under his boot, making him wheel his arms and thrust out his legs to try to stay upright.   
Jack managed it, which Rogue thought was pretty good. If it had happened to her she would have fallen straight onto her butt. However he still looked funny as hell and she couldn't help snickering at his ridiculous movements, the heat of her rage dying.  
  
Having righted himself he stared over at her balefully, but she just kept on grinning. He turned his glare to the object that had caused his trouble. In a fit of rage he kicked it away, no doubt opting to relieve his frustration at her on it.   
The bone went skidding across the flags and struck the opposite wall. The force of his kick caused it to bounce off and return to his feet, sporting a large crack. Enraged by this Jack kicked it again and this time when it stuck the bone cracked in two, one half sailing into the straw near her feet and the other shooting back at Jack, who had to dodge to avoid it.   
  
Feel better ? Rogue asked, arms crossed over her chest Or do you want to want to kick something else for a while?  
  
Watch out wench or I might find bigger targets he half growled at her.  
  
You'd better be the one to watch out **Captain** she bit back.  
  
Or you might use your terrible powers on me? he said sarcastically  
  
Call me wench again and you'll find out! she snarled back.  
  
Again they glared at each other. Jack dropped his gaze and resumed his petulant pacing, while Rogue watched him, feeling strangely superior. Usually she was on the receiving end and it felt good to be dishing out the maturity for once.  
  
Jack stopped pacing and stared absently at the bone at his feet. It had broken off into a jagged point. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands, considering it. He tested the sharp end on his thumb and tried to break it off. When it wouldn't come away his held it up and examined it in the light that now streamed in the window.  
  
He turned toward the door and knelt down, attempting to curl his hand out and up so the one was facing the lock of the door. He carefully inserted the broken end into the keyhole and began manoeuvring it about, grunting and cursing softly when it slipped in his grasp.  
  
What are you doing? Rogue asked scornfully, watching his desperate and vaguely pathetic attempts to pick the lock using the broken bone.  
  
Again he ignored her, focused intently on his work. He was beginning to seriously piss her off.  
  
he whispered twisting the bone inside the lock with a thick crunching sound.   
  
The sounds of someone running down the stairs reached them. Instantly Jack dropped the bone, which remained stuck in the lock and lay back on the floor, feigning sleep.  
  
Rogue was just about to chew him out about his faking again when the man who had come down the stairs strode straight to their cell. He was really a boy, she realised studying his face as he came toward them, probably not much older than her.  
Kinda cute too she thought absently, even with the funky clothes. She decided men should not wear tights and buckled shoes. It was just wrong.  
  
He stared coldly through the bars and demanded Jack's attention.   
  
You. Sparrow! he barked, glaring coldly at Jack through the door. The light from the window cast shadows over his face, enough to obscure his eyes from her. Not that seeing his eyes would make much difference she reasoned, but it would be comforting to see them anyway._   
_  
He clearly didn't like her companion, which Rogue couldn't really blame him for. He was very good at rubbing people the wrong way. Even his friends seemed to hate him, although she didn't know if she could call the freaky skeleton guys friends. They had left the guy on an island after all. He was just bad with people she decided. That was something she could relate to.   
  
It was creeping up on her that she and Jack, although completely different, still seemed to have a lot in common. She didn't know if she was happy about that or not. She definitely didn't want that to make her feel any sympathy toward him, even as she felt her earlier anger at him fade.  
  
Rogue was abruptly brought back to the conversation when Mr Imperious grabbed the bars and snarled through them, glaring like he wished it was Jack's neck.   
  
Mr Imperious had just become Mr Intensity. Over pirates. Rogue never thought it was a subject you could get particularly intense about. Sure she could see that sometimes all that swinging about and having sword fights on tropical beaches could be annoying and some people really hated parrots but there was nothing there to inspire the kind of vibe Tights Guy was giving off. There was so much more going on here than she knew and she had to remind herself how little she really knew about this time period.   
  
Their conversation had moved on without her and she decided she really had to pay more attention if she wanted to learn anything useful. It was inattention that had helped to get her into this mess in the first place.  
  
Wonderfully the next words out of his mouth were just what she wanted to hear.  
  
I can get you out of here he claimed confidently, that superior note firmly back in his voice.  
  
Her cellmate's answer was what she was coming to realise was typical of him, an arched eyebrow and a flip comment.  
  
How's that? The key's run off.  
  
Rogue attempted to swallow a laugh, even though it wasn't that funny. When Jack tipped his head back slightly and winked at her she grinned back, not hiding her mirth from Tights Guy. She stopped abruptly, remembering that she was angry at him, but then decided to let it go for now, since they both had a common foe. If Tights Guy could be called that, she wasn't sure about him yet.  
  
He angrily retorted with some technical crap that she didn't understand. Why didn't he stop talking and just get them outta there? she wondered, her eyes drifting to the barred window and the hole where the other inmates had escaped hours before.   
**  
**When he said his name was Will, Rogue was surprised, she wouldn't have pegged him as a Will. Maybe a Eustace or Clarence or something equally fussy.  
Jack's reaction was very different. he was suddenly all compliance, agreeing quickly to whatever Tights Guy, Will, wanted. They even shook on it.   
Rogue smelt a rat, metaphorically for once, which was a nice change in this place. There was no way Jack was doing this, finding a ship and some chick called Swann, out of the goodness of his heart. He definitely had at least one ulterior motive. From what she knew of him she would say he had about seven.   
And none of this solved any of her problems, which to her, were much more important than some stupid ship.  
  
Hey what about me? Rogue demanded, hands on hips.  
  
What about you? Jack asked, watching eagerly as Will levered the bench against the door.  
  
Well what am I supposed to do?  
  
Grow up, marry a nice gent, have lots of fat babies he said distractedly as the door came free with a wrenching squeal. Will tossed it aside.  
  
Hurry, someone will have heard that. he ordered.  
  
Jack darted nimbly out and grabbed for a bundle against the wall.  
  
Not without my effects he muttered.  
  
The two men may have reached an agreement but Rogue had yet to do so. While she wanted to get out of the cell a voice whispered that going with these ancient criminals would not be the best idea. She was still semi-mad at Jack and this Will guy just gave her a trouble vibe. Probably not the best people to be hanging around with. She didn't know where they were going and their plans obviously had something to do with freaky zombie pirates. She didn't think she wanted to get into that.   
Also too she felt she should stay near where she had landed so as to make the rescue efforts easier. She refused to think that there may not be any rescue efforts, firmly squashing the nagging voice in the back of her mind which gleefully sniggered that she was probably stuck here forever and good riddance. She really had to stop absorbing people who hated her.  
  
The first voice was saying she should stay here and attempt to explain things to the authorities. Maybe they would believe her and she certainly shouldn't go looking for more trouble than she was already in.  
  
The voice reminded her a lot of Jean.   
  
In fact it was almost... exactly.... like...... Jean.   
  
Rogue narrowed her eyes, irritation sweeping through her.  
  
There was no way she was going to sit in here any longer, filthy and the rest just because Prom Queen Jean thought it was a good idea. Fuck the consequences, she was goin' with her gut on this one. Nimbly she leapt up, bruises and scrapes for the moment forgotten and hurried after her rapidly disappearing cellmate and his intense companion.  
  
She followed them out and trailed the two men down the stairs. Will turned to look at her.  
  
Who are you? And why are you following us? he demanded, looking with disapproval at her ragged appearance.  
  
I'm comin' with you. I can't stay here. I'm actually kinda fond of my life, no matter how crappy it is and I'm gonna try an' hold onto it for as long as possible. That means getting far away from here Rogue answered, not breaking stride.  
  
Luv, you're not invited on this one Jack told her, peering carefully around a corner.  
  
Well, **_luv_** she responded tartly I don't care. And besides, she threatened with a falsely sweet smile if you don't take me with you I'll go tell some of those nice guards what you're planning to do.   
  
What if we decided to kill you hmm? I think that would keep you from blabbing Jack threw back, a sinister gleam in his eyes and real threat in his body as he half turned to face her, fingering the hilt of the short sword he carried. Will didn't look happy with this suggestion but she doubted her wanted her to reveal their plan either. She couldn't depend on him  
  
Rogue met Jack's gaze, showing a confidence she didn't feel. You could try she offered, shifting her stance and directing a challenging look at both of them.   
  
She was aware of the bluff in her words. Weak as she was she thought maybe she could defeat them but both carried those swords as if they knew how to use them and she didn't think she was any match for that. At least not in her current state. But she was hoping that they wouldn't know that and she kept her back straight and her stare level willing them to believe her.  
  
The two men were silent considering their options. Jack locked eyes with her and for a long moment dark held green as they had so often in the past hours, neither giving quarter. Finally Jack chuckled softly. He dropped her determined gaze and nodded So be it my dear. You are very welcome to join our little crew.  
  
Rogue grinned slightly in triumph and hurried along behind them, ignoring the disapproving looks from Will. Problem of impending trial and execution solved. The slightly larger problem of how to get home would just have to wait until a time where she wasn't running for her life.  
  
  



	6. Sailing and other hazards

As usual much apologising and grovelling at the feet of my readers (if you haven't all left in disgust that is). There are about 100 excuses but they all suck and really I just had the worst case of writers block. Blockage partially removed now and we have great hopes for the future.   
  
Also Insinkerators are the greatest invention in the world. I'm not sure what they're called in other countries but in Australia they live in the sink and eat everything you put into them, including siblings and stray appendages.  


********************  
  
Considering everything that could have gone wrong and taking into account her generally shitty luck it was a miracle that they managed not only to escape the fort and the guards but also steal a ship and hoodwink a large group of men without once resorting to violence.   
  
Well, not actual hitting at least.  
  
For so long Rogue had been used to the leaden weight of the necessity of using her powers in any sort of conflict. That cold clench of dread whenever she approached an enemy, knowing what she must do and fearing it.  
  
This time she had been rolling her eyes every time Jack opened his mouth. When Will had put his foot through a crab trap she thought she was gonna drown from laughing so hard. She had had to stifle more laughter at Will's earnest pirate talk. Jack's look had been as much annoyance as it was outrage and Rogue thought he must be beginning to regret agreeing to this venture. She hadn't even thought about using her abilities and the unconscious weight this removed made her feelings of excitement and happiness so much greater.  
  
She was standing on the warm deck of a large sailing ship several hundred years in the past but the sun was shining and she was starting an adventure with two attractive men  
  
However there was one serious problem with her current situation that was rapidly making itself known.   
  
She was dying.  
  
Or at least that's what it felt like. She wasn't melodramatic whatever Kitty said. And anyway that was really the pot calling the kettle black because that girl was the biggest drama queen. Where did she get off calling other people melodramatic? God the fuss she'd made when Rogue had accidentally on purpose stuffed all her pink clothes down the Insinkerator. Industrial foghorns made less noise than she had. Kitty just hadn't seen the purpose of her action. It was meant to be an ironic statement against consumerism and mainstream teen culture. Also the colour just bugged her.  
  
But that really wasn't the point now because she was dying slowly and painfully.   
  
The huge stomach churning drops and the lurching roll of the ship had quickly drained the colour from her face and the strength from her legs. Staggering she clutched at the rail, hands gripping the polished wood with white knuckled force.  
  
Have ye not been on a ship before missy? Jack asked, striding past her to pull on the rope of the large main mast.  
  
Rogue glared at him but another grinding roll made her sway and clutch her head. It was as if her head was filling with greasy bubbles and they were bunching behind her eyes making it difficult to see. The sound of the waves and the creaks and groans of the ship were deafening, each noise piercing through her ears like needles, driving into her brain.  
  
It felt like being majorly hungover, the spinning and lurching sensation right before you...  
  
She lunged forward and emptied the contents of her stomach over the side.  
  
Jack looked at where she was draped over the rail and grinned. The hardened criminal had just had the wind knocked from her sails. Rogue could see his thoughts plainly even though she was upside down and 10 feet away.  
  
Those barely repressed homicidal thoughts rose gleefully to the front of her mind and she wished for the first time in ages that she was Jean so she could make his head explode with a thought. Or at least toss him over the side. He definitely wasn't attractive and she didn't know why she'd ever thought he was.   
  
He sauntered up to her, ignoring her ferocious glare and hunched down so his face was level with hers, albeit the right way up.   
  
You know the best cure for the Curse?  
  
Rogue started for a moment before realising he meant her seasickness. If it had been anything else she thought she might have tried to bite his nose off, upside down or not.  
  
she asked thickly, another dip making her stomach churn.  
  
A seat in the stern. That way you don't splatter the sides when you bail out! he finished grinning away like mad.  
  
He was dead.  
  
She was going to rip his face off. Punch his nose so far into his head he'd get snot on his spine. Various other hideous and painful threats rolled through her mind. Unfortunately her stomach rolled too, which left her too sick to even try to carry any of them out.  
  
Jack stayed crouched beside her, waiting for her reply, not realising how lucky he was.  
  
M'mm gonna..k'll you! she growled, the threat spoiled somewhat by her green skin and heavy swallowing.  
  
Jack leant away, chuckling. Rogue didn't know what made her do it. It could have been anger or fear or desperation. Much later she could admit that her attraction to him may have played some part in her actions. Or it could have been the blinding, searing, homicidal rage. But for whatever reason she reached out and brushed her arm against his, the bare skin of their wrists connecting for the briefest moment. Jack didn't notice the contact. He staggered briefly, the small drain weakening his balance but he straightened and continued as before. Rogue however was much more effected by the quick transfer.  
  
Suddenly the sights and sounds became tolerable, her body using the knowledge it acquired from Jack to adjust to her surroundings. His reactions to the ship were so ingrained as to be almost instinctual which meant they were easily assimilated into her system. Which was handy sometimes, although it had given her some bad habits in the past, but a little fingernail biting was nothing against total non-seasickness. Jack's skills were now hers. She looked around the boat and could name every part and she knew that she could work every part of it too. Her body remembered, even if it had only just learnt it, as if she had been doing it all her life.  
  
Alright.  
  
Jack's mind barely made a shadow in her thoughts. There was no real presence like with some people she had absorbed in the past, but there was the sense of him all through her mind and particularly in her instincts and attitudes. She was pretty sure she could repress those before they made her do anything stupid, like feel sorry for him.   
  
There were no actual coherent thoughts, but she did get something. Vague flashes and impressions and one idea, hard with purpose and almost slippery as if it was as shifty as its creator . When she tried to focus on it, it wriggled away so she left it to deal with later, right now she had other things on her mind.  
  
She walked up the deck toward the two men, her body, using the new information, immediately adjusting to the motion of the ship. She sauntered up to them, enjoying the look of consternation on Jack's face as he saw her confidence and control. They were discussing something, but she ignored it.  
  
I think both of you have neglected the most important thing she said, interrupting them.  
  
Have we now? And what might that be pray tell? Jack inquired sarcastically.  
  
I need some decent clothes right now.  
  
********************  
  
Rogue looked disgustedly down at herself. This place just...sucked.   
  
Not only were the clothes ugly and horribly suited to her but the fabric was hideous. The calf length trousers she wore were made of scratchy white cotton . Her shirt was of similar material and not at all flattering.   
  
While she was used to covering up she wasn't used to _covering up._ Even though she wore long sleeves and pants most of the time, the fabrics and cut of her clothes usually meant that they revealed as much as they hid. This outfit was all hiding.  
  
Worse although they smelt clean they had the feeling of dirt and use. Plus she was positive there were lice in it. That crawling feel all over her skin had to be caused by something.  
  
On one level she realised that she was being finicky and that in this time and place she should probably just accept the clothes and be grateful. On another she was horrified at her similarity to Kitty and Jean in her thoughts. But on the loudest and most prominent level she was fed up and still very much afraid and the clothes were the final straw.   
  
If she had thought it would do any good she would have sat down in the middle of the deck and bawled her eyes out. But Rogue was not the kind of person to wallow in despair. Unless it had to do with her love life, she admitted to herself. At any rate she had better make the most of the situation. She just needed to calm down and refocus. That's all.  
  
Taking a deep breath she leant back against the mast, the smooth wood supporting her suddenly tired body.   
Strangely, it smelt of wood rather than salt and seaweed like most of the things on the ship. Including the clothes, she thought plucking irritably at her shirt. The one familiar note amongst all the strangeness.   
  
The smell of it reminded her of the Mansion, the panelled halls and the warm quiet of the Professor's study. It was the woods outside where they did their training. It was also Mississippi, and the home she'd shared with Irene, the old floors of polished timber that creaked softly when you walked, smoothed by countless feet before hers.   
  
Thinking of her homes, the old and the new was incredibly soothing. Rogue could hear the slap of the waves on the hull of the ship and the whistle of the wind. The huge canvas sails snapped and billowed above her and the ropes all over creaked as they held the shifting sail in place. A deep sense of calm descended,.  
  
Idly she noticed the two men talking about something up near the steering wheel. _Helm _her brain supplied in that ghost of a voice that had to be Jack. Steering wheel she thought deliberately and felt a shadow of a face made at her, or at least the her that was in her mind, it was difficult to explain.   
  
Christ he was annoying! He was still sticking around after such short contact with her powers. He was obviously more persistent then he appeared. Which she hadn't thought possible but here was the proof.  
  
Rogue made a note of that, another thing about him she might be able to use later on. She also made a note never to touch him again unless she could help it. Being stuck with him in her head for any great length of time would definitely push her over the edge into the beckoning chasm of insanity.  
  
In contrast to all she had learnt about Jack so far, she knew virtually nothing about Will. He was more open with his emotions but that really told her nothing about him except that he hated pirates and loved this Elizabeth girl. Apart from that he really showed nothing. Maybe he was just shallow, she thought.  
  
If Will had shown anything thus far it was an alarming tendency to be exactly like Scott. And to make her laugh, albeit unintentionally which was something Scott rarely accomplished. Rogue also wondered if this chick they were going to rescue' was anything like Jean. The coincidence would be freaky. But then her life to date was practically the definition of abnormal so she probably shouldn't be surprised.  
  
Suddenly the ship tilted as Jack spun the wheel and the boom swept Will over the side.   
Men, she thought disgustedly, too comfortable to move. They obviously had issues they needed to work out.   
  
Still he did look funny, clinging to the boom for dear life legs kicking frantically. She giggled flexing her toes against the warm deck, before stretching her arms above her head. Sighing she realised she should probably check out what was happening at the other end. If they killed each other she didn't think she could sail the ship alone.  
  
She stood slowly and headed toward them, deftly avoiding piles of rope and other objects strewn about the deck.  
  
Coming near she only caught the tail end of their conversation and it didn't make any sense.  
  
Will asked, staring up at Sparrow.  
  
Jack confirmed, a half smile curling his lips.  
  
Rogue asked, walking up to where Jack stood, looking down at Will sprawled on the deck, Where's that?  
  
Both men had been so intent on their conversation that they hadn't heard her approach, judging by the way they both quickly swung their heads around to look at her. Rogue put a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow, wondering who would be the first to recover.  
  
Jack grinned, his eyes lighting up mischievously. I'm right again, she thought.  
  
Tortuga. Tortuga is a land of delights and freedom. Rum flows down every street and gold flies about like water. Every..  
  
Will cut him off scorn returning to his voice once more. He'd also managed to scrape himself off the deck by this stage, which she silently congratulated him for.  
  
Tortuga is a den of iniquity. A haven for every blackguard and scoundrel in these waters. Any excess is indulged and any vice is permitted. To any decent folk it is a blight on God's earth.  
  
Sounds like my kinda place Rogue said after a moment of silence.  
  
Will looked shocked and outraged at the same time. He was quite good at that actually. Jack tilted his head back and laughed loudly, his eyes sparkling.  
  
Tis an island off the coast off Hispaniola. With a fine port and a deep harbour. The only pirate port in the Caribbean lass. We'll find all as we needs there. Just you wait and see.  
  
How long will it take to get there? she asked, feeling eager to see this Tortuga. It wasn't every day she got to see a den of iniquity, living in Bayville with a powerful telepath and all.  
  
We'll follow the Windward Passage and that should bring us to Tortuga quick as shakes.  
  
So how come you all know where the pirate hideout is? Shouldn't it be a secret? I mean if the army or whatever knows where it is they could just come and arrest all of you. Rogue asked Jack but it was Will who answered.  
  
Tortuga is allied with the French, he stated self-righteous scorn lacing his words, Only they could allow such goings on in their own territory.  
  
Rogue didn't really see how this stopped the police from raiding he place but Will seemed to think it was an adequate explanation so she just nodded her head and feigned understanding.  
  
Aye. Tortuga is full of Frenchies but none the worse for it. Jack answered. His eyes narrowed lasciviously as he added You'd not be so scornful lad if you'd ever laid up with a french girl. Their almost enough to make a man forget the sea, so they are.  
  
Will blushed furiously and only partly from anger. Rogue was willing to bet he'd never laid up with any girl, french or otherwise.   
She'd lost that particular attribute years ago but since becoming a mutant it was as if she had been permanently taken off the market. Re-virginised as it were. That was both incredibly funny and incredibly sad at the same time. The story of her life. So she couldn't really smirk at Will's blushes being in much the same position now.  
  
But she did anyway.  
  
Besides lad, Jack continued, Your fair Port Royale has had its share of infamy. Modyford is as black a name as pirate made and there's been worse besides him, all with the blessings of His Majesty to boot. We are not the people who should be passing out judgements boy he finished, pinning the younger man with a firm gaze.  
  
Will met his stare boldly for a moment but then dropped his gaze, understanding the message it contained. Rogue was glad he did because she didn't have a clue what was going on. A little bit of telepathy would have been nice right about now, she thought wryly before speaking to break the tension.  
  
Do you two need some more alone time? she asked with false sweetness I wouldn't want to get in the middle of another lover's quarrel.  
  
Both men glared at her with identical expressions of outrage, and Rogue laughed, because they didn't see , despite it all, just how similar they were. Their expressions both faded to uncertainty at her amusement which only made her laugh the harder.  
  
***********************  
  
Rogue was in the prow, watching the sun set as they came upon Tortuga Island. She had been watching the sea and sky darken, reflecting each other in gold and white which gradually darkened to blue, bleeding through the shades toward the deep indigo of night.  
  
The colours were so much brighter here, everything was so much sharper. She hadn't realised but the technology of her time had softened the world she lived in. The colours and the light and nature itself were muted. They were contained, controlled and somehow...less. Like animals in the zoo, no longer part of life but removed, caged and recreated as objects for human enjoyment.  
Here there was a raw undercurrent to everything, the very real possibility of death at every turn which added a zest to life. Not entirely healthy zest in terms of longevity, Rogue admitted to herself but she felt more alive in every single moment here than she did anytime else at home except in battle.  
  
She was standing there lost in thought when soft footsteps approached her from behind. Without turning she knew it would be Jack, as Will was taking a turn at the wheel. She sighed inwardly not wanting him and the reality of her situation to intrude on her contemplation of the evening.  
Surprisingly Jack said nothing, he merely leant against the rail next to her, not even close enough to touch. He too stared out at the sea, watching the dark mass of the island coming ever closer.  
  
They stayed like that, neither speaking for some time. Finally Jack, predictably, broke the silence.  
  
There's somethin' about comin' into port at sunset, that touches the soul. he murmured without looking at her. His voice was quiet and his eyes as they gazed into the gathering dusk seemed to be contemplating something faraway. Rogue turned to him, hearing the wistfulness in his words.  
  
It's the same at sunrise. It's that time, when the world's on the edge of night and day an' everything is...still. Even in the teeth of a storm. he added turning his head slightly toward her and allowing the barest hint of a smile to curl his lips.  
  
It beautiful. Rogue whispered caught in the solemnity of the moment.  
  
That it is. Jack answered. They both fell silent again, watching the sea and sky.  
  
Rogue felt torn. Right now Jack seemed a different person to the one she had seen previously. all his bluster and tease had gone leaving instead the man, or at least that vulnerable part of him that she was sure he rarely revealed. It made her want to reveal in turn, to tell him something of her troubles. But at the same time she didn't trust him. She didn't trust anyone in this place. She couldn't. How could she tell anyone the truth?   
If she told him it would probably be that witch shit again. Or an asylum. Seeing the way regular people lived she doubted their psychiatric care was anything she'd like to experience. That was if he didn't just laugh at her. Somehow that seemed the worst possibility, for reasons she didn't want to consider.  
  
But something was urging her to speak, to at least share part of the burden. She didn't have to tell him everything, she could leave out the whole I'm from the future' bit and just stick to the lost and scared stuff'.  
  
she began but before she had a chance to say more the ship lurched to one side, sending her crashing into him. Immediately she pushed away from him, keeping her exposed skin well clear. She didn't want him to know about her powers. When she'd told him before he hadn't believed her an she wanted to keep it that way.  
  
Bloody boy Jack muttered, throwing her a commiserating look before striding to the stern, calling out insults as he went.  
  
Rogue turned back to the water, dark now that the sun had dipped below the horizon. She didn't know if it was a sign not to reveal anything but it certainly made her think twice about what she was going to say. Suddenly she felt a sharp stab of homesickness. For Kurt and Logan and the Professor and Kitty. Hell even for Scott and Jean. The view didn't look so good anymore and she turned away, upset and annoyed at the same time.   
  
She walked toward the others, arguing before the wheel, her good mood completely gone. She wanted to go home.  
  
TBC  
  
**  
  
**  



	7. 18th century culture shock

A/N: So incredibly sorry about the humungous delay on this one. Have been away and various other complications arose. But it is finally done and for those who are still reading I hope you enjoy. I was uploading this and I have had touble with formatting so there is no deliniation between scenes. Please bear with me and I will try and fix it for the next one  
  
There was no dock in Tortuga harbour for them to pull up to. There were docks, thin wooden affairs that cut the waters of the bay like wizened fingers, but they were apparently too small or "reefin' cockeyed" according to Jack. she had no idea what that meant but it all meant they had to anchor offshore and row in. Although Rogue personally thought it was because Jack couldn't parallel park and was too macho to admit it. However when she said as much she had received two very blank looks in return. She resolved to keep all her attempts at humour strictly grounded in this time. Actually, she thought, she just wouldn't bother.  
  
Jack and Will dropped the anchor, not so simple a process as she'd assumed. It involved a lot more spinning wheels and manly grunting and straining but that wasn't such a bad thing she realised, watching from the rail with a small smirk and an appreciative gaze.  
  
Having dealt with the anchor they lowered one of the rowboats over the side, giving Rogue rope burn in the process. Will looked shocked at the string of curses she spewed while blowing frantically on her burning hands. Jack just grinned, then laughed outright when she poked her tongue out at him.  
  
"Now lass. You stay here and guard the ship" he said, swinging a bag over the side where it landed in the boat with a thump.  
  
"What!" she demanded incredulously "Stay and babysit this stupid thing? No way in hell buster!"  
  
"If you want to be on this little voyage you will do what I say" he said mildly but with a steely undertone. "Or do I have to give you the same lesson as Master William had afore?"  
  
"I'd like to see you try" she blustered, not really ready to be tossed over the side.  
  
Jack merely stared at her, his look challenging until she was forced to look away.  
  
"We need someone to stay and keep watch."  
  
"Well....why not Will? He'd be better than me, he's bigger for one."  
  
Jack glanced across at Will who responded by hoisting himself over the side and dropping into the waiting boat.  
  
"There be your answer lass" he said, making to follow suit. At the rail he paused and looked back at her, standing outraged and furious beneath the mast.  
  
"Don't take on lass. I'll bring you a tot of brandy to keep you warm".  
  
"Fuck off Sparrow. I don't want your damn brandy!" she yelled, not pacified by this offer in the least.  
  
"As you wish" he answered calmly 'I'll drink it meself!" and with that he leapt over the side and lowered himself down into the rowboat.  
  
Rogue heard the splash of oars and the voices of the two men, undoubtedly arguing already as they moved off toward the flickering lights of the town.  
  
For about half an hour after they left, Rogue paced the deck fuming at the audacity of guys like Jack and at the general shittiness of life, hers in particular. It wasn't fair, she thought as she marched back and forth across the boards.  
The first possibly fun thing and she wasn't allowed to do it. It was just like at home. Stupid curfew. Logan and The Professor were always so strict. In Caldecott she had been pretty much free to do whatever she pleased, Irene being blind a big help to her night life (although sometimes she had an uncanny ability to know exactly what Rogue had been doing. It was probably a parental thing). Plus with people like Scott and Jean there was never much fun to be had. Three hundred years in the past and she still couldn't get out.  
  
Bloody Jack bloody Sparrow. Who did he think he was, ordering her around? Rogue was getting herself good and angry, just the right mood to do something defiant, like ignore Jack's orders.  
  
"I mean why should I just do what he says?" she complained aloud "If he screws around I can just knock him out end of story. It's not like I can't defend myself."  
  
Her gaze came to rest on a boat shrouded by canvas, half hidden under the stairs that lead up to the stern.  
Pulling the cover off she sized it up. It looked big enough for two or three people but not too big for one person to handle.  
  
Perfect.  
  
While Rogue was congratulating herself for reaching the shore, she was having difficulty finding somewhere to put her boat. After some fruitless searching she tied it to the base of the pier, hoping that the boards would hide it from view.  
  
"Who would have thought parking would be a problem?" she muttered to herself, tying the rope tightly with her best knots, which were considerably more complicated than they had been a few days ago, thanks no doubt to Jack's presence in her head.  
  
Satisfied that the boat wasn't going anywhere soon she grabbed the support of the dock and pulled herself up onto the boards. Thank you fitness training she thought as she stood and brushed herself off. She still wore the shirt and pants she had filched from the ships stores but thankfully she had managed to salvage her boots. Their solid length encasing her calves gave her a measure of comfort. Something familiar and trustworthy in this crazy place.  
  
She looked up at the town. It was a motley assortment of buildings clinging to almost bare rock. The town, if you could call it that, she thought, it looks more like a slum, rose in terraces away from the rocky shore. Even from down here she could hear the sounds of laughter, music, gunshots and shrieking. All the things that advertised a good time. Except the gunshots she amended, but I am more than 300 years in the past, so it could be a good thing here.  
  
She decided that if she didn't investigate she would never know so she started determinedly up the dock toward the lights and noise, her boots thumping confidently on the wooden boards.  
  
"Geeze would it kill them to bathe occasionally?" she wondered aloud, having been subjected to the unique smells of Tortuga for the last fifteen minutes. Rogue had decided that she wouldn't eat anything while she was here. She'd probably die of food poisoning for a start.  
  
However, when she saw a man mouth open under a brandy keg she decided that she might be able to drink something.  
  
I mean the alcohol would kill any germs she reasoned, and it'd practically be a crime not to have a drink while I'm here. It looks like the local custom. She watched a fat, bearded man chase a laughing, half-dressed woman down the street howling and barking at her.  
  
Think I'll stick with the drinkin' custom she thought as she walked into the nearest pub. Tavern she corrected herself, they're called taverns here.  
  
The establishment she had chosen bore the salubrious name of the Good Queen's Petticoat. Rogue thought it was meant to be lewd but to her it just seemed kinda lame.  
  
Inside it was smoky and dark, the only light being provided by lanterns hanging at great intervals from the ceiling and a few candles in holders against the walls. There were lots of low rough-made tables with benches on either side scattered over the sandy floor. The bar ran along one side of the room and a narrow staircase led upwards on the opposite side.  
  
That was it.  
  
Except for the hundreds of drunken sailors and women she thought, watching the raucous and roiling mob of people that crammed the tavern.  
  
Some were singing, some were dancing, or attempting to dance on the floor, the tables or each other, one guy standing on the back of a fallen friend and attempting to do a jig.  
There were women, all made up like clowns, blind disabled clowns it looked like, who were dancing and kissing, and more with various men. It was a regular old 18th century piss up. At least they look like they're having fun, she thought wryly with only a trace of bitterness at her situation.  
  
She manoeuvred her way through the stumbling, brawling crowd until she reached the bar. She had no clue what to order but was willing to be that Cosmopolitans and Martinis wouldn't be on the menu. Rum a voice in her head supplied. She couldn't be sure if it was Jack or someone else but she decided just to go with the suggestion.  
  
She pulled out the small leather purse she had filched from Jack earlier. After all she had put up with from him she figured he at least owed her a drink. Looking inside she saw several strange looking coins, all of them a dull silver colour. It would probably be enough for one drink.  
  
The meaty woman behind the bar looked up at her, idly polishing a pewter tankard.  
  
"Rum" Rogue ordered, going with a general request and hoping the woman would fill in the size and price for herself.  
  
With disinterested slowness the woman leant forward, removing a misshapen green bottle from under the counter. She poured a small measure of what looked like muddy water into a wooden mug in front of Rogue.  
  
Rogue pulled out one of the silver coins and put it down of the counter.  
  
The woman whisked it away and threw a few coppers beside her drink. She then moved down the bar to serve a skinny old man who was rapping on the wood with an empty wooden tankard.  
  
Rogue regarded her drink for a while before picking it up and giving it a tentative sniff. There was no way she was rushing into this having learnt from previous drinking experiences the danger of gulping unknown alcohol.  
  
She was just about to take a sip when she felt someone approach her from behind.  
  
"Well little missy, how about you run up my mainsail?" a voice leered as stale breath in her ear announced an unwelcome distraction.  
  
"Geeze what is it with this place? Every single guy!" she groused not turning around.  
  
"Don't be like that now. I'll pay ye handsomely. Just in from the Leeward Islands with a hold full o' Spanish swag. What say we go upstairs?" he lowered both hands onto her shoulders.  
  
She shook him off and turned around, eyes blazing with anger.  
  
"Listen up moron 'cos I'm only gonna say this once. I don't want to go anywhere or do anything with you. You stink, you're clearly mentally challenged and your face reminds me of the back end of an particularly ugly mule", she stabbed a finger into his chest for emphasis ignoring his wide eyed shock. "So why don't you just fuck off and leave me in peace?"  
  
Rogue turned away from him and picked up her mug, any good temper completely ruined. Every time she started to enjoy this place some dick came along and tried to molest her.  
  
"Listen wench." he hissed angrily, not at all deterred by her comments "You'd best keep your mouth shut an'......"  
  
He grabbed her shoulder again and she spun around, delivering a hard chop to his throat cutting off what he had been about to say. The man staggered back gasping and wheezing. Rogue didn't give him the chance to recover, advancing quickly to punch him in the stomach. Finally she got a chance to use her training. Having felt useless in her conflicts up to this point it was good to finally get to kick some ass again.  
  
As he folded forward from the punch she brought her knee up to meet his descending head. He howled in pain and she drew back a foot, launching a kick straight into his groin. He folded right over with a squeal of agony. Rogue then brought her hand down on the nerve cluster at the base of his skull. The man shuddered then lapsed into unconsciousness.  
  
Rogue straightened up, noticing for the first time that all activity in the bar had stopped and all eyes were riveted on her and the fallen man.  
  
She looked around with a challenging stare, daring anyone to comment. There was an eerie hush for a long moment.  
  
Then, just as quickly as they had stopped, the crowd went back to their previous activities, the mob of people swirling over the fallen man, who was being none to gently dragged away by a heavyset man Rogue guessed was a bouncer of sorts.  
  
She turned back to her drink, staring once more into its murky depths.  
  
"That was quite impressive little miss" came a voice from her right. Rogue looked up, ready to deal with this guy but saw that the man next to her hand his hands up in a pacifying gesture. "Tis good to see someone knock that windbag square on his arse" he grinned, displaying a mouth that had more gaps than teeth and those mostly gold. "Even if ye are only a maid".  
  
Rogue glared at him and he again raised his hands "What say I buy you a tot of grog in celebration?" he offered with nervous enthusiasm.  
  
Rogue nodded once, dropping her cold stare. Better drink this one if she was gonna have another.  
  
She picked up the mug and downed the entire contents.  
  
While she was trying to recover her lungs from her mouth and her eyes from the floor the man beside her yelled  
  
"Aggie! Grog for me and my friend here." He turned to her , apparently ignorant of the fact that she was dying of asphyxiation "What's your name luv?"  
  
"Rogue" she managed somehow, despite the fact her vocal cords felt like they had been burnt away with a blow torch.  
  
He grinned and slapped her on the back. 'Name's Thomas. Enough of that water Rogue, try some real Tortuga grog. It could wake Queen Bess so it could, God rest her soul".  
  
He bumped his mug against hers, drinking the contents with gusto.  
  
Oh well she thought, Rome an' all, before picking up her own mug.  
  
It only seemed like five minutes later, but in reality was several hours, and Rogue was having the time of her life.  
  
She had suddenly acquired all these new friends. This was a new experience for her not having had many friends before.  
  
"Or ever really" she mused aloud, barely heard over the din in the tavern.  
  
But now she had lots and they kept buying her drinks and being nice, talking and all that. Just like friends were supposed to. She felt herself tear up at the wonderfulness of her new friends.  
  
"I really love all of you" she said, feeling she just had to express the wonderfulness she was feeling. Wonderfulness. That's a great word, she thought.  
  
"I'm gonna use it every day from now on" she vowed solemnly.  
  
Her new friends nodded with equal solemnity , even raising their mugs in salute to her sentiments.  
  
Of course she didn't realise how drunk she was, not having had much contact with grog in Bayville. It was probably a blessing she didn't know what was in that or she might have been decidedly less enthusiastic about drinking as much of it as she had and was still doing.  
  
"Y'know" she slurred, her accent so thick that even if her companions hadn't been drunk, they'd have been hard pressed to understand her, 'Y'know I should take a picshure. To comm..comm....commmem...to 'member this moment. Forever. Frozen in honey. Or y'know amber. In time. I'm in time. The wrong time" she began to giggle hysterically which set off everyone else at the table.  
  
Once several of Thomas' friends had arrived and joined them they had moved to a table, the benches a relief for Rogue's suddenly tired legs. There was one woman in the group, Demelza and she and Rogue had been bitching about the evils of men for the past hour.  
  
"An' then they're all 'Oh lets just be friends' and 'You're like a sister to me' " Rogue complained loudly, waving her mug for emphasis "When all I really want is some hot monkey lovin'. Although not with an actual monkey, 'cos of the fur 'n' all".  
  
'I knew a man who looked like a monkey" Demelza said, taking a generous gulp of her drink "Was hair from neck to ankles. Had a hard time finding the mast on that boat, let me tell you".  
  
Rogue burst out laughing and Demelza joined her, the men watching in bemusement as the two women held each other and laughed until they cried.  
  
"Must be a female thing." Thomas said to the old man from the bar who had joined them earlier. He nodded wisely in return, both men completely mystified.  
  
She and Montgomery and Demelza and Pete and Thomas, her new best friends, were all walking toward the next tavern. Strangely walking had become suddenly more difficult than usual. But it was okay because her friends were supporting her on either side. She really loved them.  
  
They were attempting to sing a song, but no one seemed to know the words. Rogue kept trying to sing a Chilli Peppers song but couldn't remember how it began. Or there was that one about the House. The great big house.  
  
"in Nawlins" she slurred thoughtfully. "Nawlins. Its 'bin the ruin of many poor, ......somethings" she sang confusedly before giving up. Her friends all had better voices anyway. She'd just listen to them.  
  
They were making their slow, unsteady way across the road when she suddenly spied a familiar face. Two familiar faces actually but one was much more welcome than the other.  
  
"Jack!" she yelled, letting go of her friends who, in the absence of her support lurched drunkenly into a group of men coming in the other direction. There was much cursing and groaning as both groups tried to untangle themselves.  
  
Meanwhile Rogue had swayed over to where Jack and Will stood in the middle of the street watching her with a mixture of exasperation and horror. Although that was mainly from Will.  
  
She smiled, cocking her head to the side as she tried to focus on both of them at once. Finding this impossible she looked at Jack, not realising she was grinning like a maniac.  
  
"Hey boys! How the hell are ya? Been enjoying the night life?" she lost her footing and fell against Jack, who caught her deftly, his hands grasping her arms firmly. He tried to set her upright but she sagged against him, arms going about his waist. She started giggling.  
  
"I'll be easy on the goods" she said through her laughter missing the shocked expression on Jack's face at hearing his words to Elizabeth coming from her mouth. Still laughing she said, looking up at him from where she clung to his hips, half kneeling on the ground.  
  
"Whoops. Not supposed to know that. I thought I didn't get you much. You must have a very..." she trailed off her thoughts occupied by the sword right in front of her face. "A sword. A cutlass!" she attempted to pull it from the scabbard but failed "Argh me hearties "she growled "Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum. We'll hang them from the rigging so we shall" she broke off into giggles again, loosing her hold on Jack and sliding to sit in the road.  
  
Jack finally spoke anger lacing the amusement in his voice "An' what are ye doin' here hmm? I thought I told ye to stay on board all night". He looked down at her happily grinning face, resting comfortably against his knees.  
  
She pushed off him and managed, after a few tries to stand up. Facing him she smiled and tried to hold her head up to meet his eyes. Something that was harder than it had been a few minutes ago. Or was that hours? She couldn't remember. Jack stood waiting for an answer, one eyebrow raised.  
  
"Uh huh" she slurred waving a finger under his nose "You only said that, that I gotta stay on d'ship but not for how long!" she grinned triumphantly at her brilliant logic. Jack was about to respond when another thought occurred to her and she spoke right over the top of him.  
  
"Besides, you said..." she lost her train of thought momentarily before quickly finding it again "you said that I couldn't come with you. Not that I couldn't come. So I came,.. all by myself!" She realised the double entendre she had unwittingly voiced and burst into giggles.  
  
"We don't need you, we come when we feel like it. I came here and over there too!" she added between her snorts and snickers which she was trying, unsuccessfully to muffle with her hands, "I came after you!" she collapsed against Jack, shaking with laughter.  
  
Will watched, horrified from two feet away. Jack, meanwhile was supporting her with a half amused, half exasperated expression, something he was doing more and more around her. He had no idea what she was going on about but both he and Will could see she was 3 sheets to the wind and listing fast.  
  
Suddenly Jack burst out laughing, throwing his arm around her shoulder.  
  
"You've got spirit little Rogue" he said, winking at her, a move she tried to return but somehow couldn't. "Since we're all here we should continue the festivities. I'll take you to the finest tavern in the Caribbean."  
  
"Really?" she asked, leaning into him, eyes wide and excited "Do they have grog?"  
  
"There she is!" came an angry cry from down the road, interrupting Jack's reply.  
  
A group of burly men, all of them filthy and dishevelled, were approaching their small party. Rogue recognised the man who had spoken as the man she had dropped in the bar, what seemed like a lifetime ago.  
  
"Not you again" she drawled annoyed. "Look dude, I kicked your ass already. Once is enough. Your ass can't take another go. Even though its so fat." she started giggling again.  
  
"Now there's no need for this" Jack began placatingly.  
  
"Shut ye hatch" the man shouted "This little sow-bitch has a divvyin' comin'. And I mean to see it happen!".  
  
Meanwhile the other people in the street seemed to realise that a fight was brewing and quickly made themselves scarce. Will watched them go apprehensively and even Jack looked concerned at the group that was now opposite them in the deserted road.  
  
Rogue seemed oblivious to this as she stared down the men, her lip twisted in scorn and her eyes narrowed in anger.  
  
This served to further anger her former opponent and he tightened his grip on his sword, knuckles whitening.  
  
"Ye'll be sorry trull" he spat, stepping toward her.  
  
An enormous wave of anger swept over her, making her growl involuntarily. Unbeknownst to her or the two men beside her, her eyes flashed burning yellow and in the flickering light her teeth seemed to be growing, fangs that gleamed in the night.  
  
The man stopped and a ripple of unease ran through the others.  
  
"What are you?" he asked, looking slightly concerned for the first time.  
  
"I'm a freak!" she screamed hands curled into claws and raking the air beside her head.  
  
Before he could move she leapt onto him, hands going for his throat. The genuinely terrified man raised an arm to defend himself and she promptly sank her teeth into it.  
  
His muffled scream of pain acted as a signal to the others. They all rushed to help their friend but were intercepted by Jack and Will. The battle began in earnest.  
  
Rogue stopped bashing her opponents head against the ground when she realised he had stopped moving and groaning. She looked up to see Jack and Will attempting to fight off the rest of the gang. Without thinking she sprang up and attacked to nearest man, driving both feet into his back.  
  
She vaguely realised that she was fighting these very dangerous men while blind drunk but it didn't really worry her. If anything she was fighting better than she usually did.  
  
Strangely not thinking about her moves made them easier. It was as if she flowed with the movement. In a frozen moment of lucidity she saw herself performing moves she had failed to master in all her classes at the Institute. Her vision was blurry but she could feel the man behind her swing a cudgel at her turned back. Before she could think she realised she had pivoted smoothly, bringing her leg around and knocking the club from the thugs hand with a paralysing kick to the wrist. He duly dropped the weapon and she jumped, this time landing the kick on his jaw. The crunch of breaking bone accompanied his shriek of pain and subsequent collapse to the filthy cobbles.  
  
A sword flashed past her, narrowly missing her head. Rogue not realising that she had already dodged the blow. She rolled away and then flipped back onto her feet, staggering slightly as she stood up and the world spun.  
  
Again her attacker swung his sword, but this time she darted forward and grabbed both his hands, where they held the hilt, effectively stopping the blow. Before he had time to force her away with his superior strength, she whipped one leg forward and nailed him squarely in the crotch. His eyes crossed and he fell, dropping his sword in the process. Rogue bent and picked it up, casually kicking him in the face as she straightened. Giving the sword a few experimental swipes she grinned. Turning quickly she brought it up to block a blow from another of the gang. Forcing him back she launched into a deadly earnest battle, sword humming through the air. It wasn't until much later that she would remember this fight and wonder and worry about her incredible sword skills.  
  
Suddenly there were no more people attacking her. She stopped, confused, the sword falling to her side. Coming back to herself, which was quite difficult because the world still refused to stop spinning, Rogue looked around. All the men were down, some groaning, others frighteningly still. Her 'friends' had mostly disappeared and the street was deserted except for the fallen thugs, Jack and Will.  
  
"Yes! Oh yes!" she crowed, surveying their victory. "I am the strongest mutant ever! Scott and his eyebeams are shit compared to me! Little Miss Telekinetic ain't got nothin'!" she raised her hands over her head, fists punching the air, her 'borrowed' sword held high.  
  
One of the men moaned piteously, clutching his head and her attention snapped over to him.  
  
"Yeah, you want some more loser? Huh?" she danced forward swinging the sword in wide arcs, "C'mon! Bring it! Bring it on bitch!" she threw her arms out wide, sword upraised in one hand, "Who's the greatest? Yeah!"  
  
Strangely all her friends were quiet. Looking around in confusion, she remembered they had gone. While she was thinking about that and wondering where they had gone, two hands grabbed her firmly from behind, pinning her arms by her sides.  
  
"Hey asshole! Let me go! You can't touch me! I'm the Rogue!"she yelled, struggling futilely to escape.  
  
"Now now, little Rogue. That's enough for this evenin'. You come away with me quiet like now." Jack's voice said soothingly from somewhere near her ear.  
  
Rogue considered struggling some more but the spinning had grown faster and her limbs no longer wanted to obey her, as she found out when she tried to free an arm. Jack's proximity was making it even harder to think, the distracting tickle of his breath on her cheek further confusing her already addled mind.  
  
"Ok" she said relaxing in his hold. Jack released her and pushed her upright away from him. After which Rogue promptly passed out, hitting the ground with an ungraceful thud.  
  
"Are all the women you know this crazy?" Will asked as Jack carefully lifted the limp girl off the cobbles.  
  
"Not all of them." Jack answered, hefting Rogue over his shoulder and heading back toward the harbour, "Me mam was much worse".  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: Just a note on Rogue's drunken expertise, I actually have a friend who is the clumsiest person alive but get a few drinks into her and she is like a damn ballerina. Its uncanny. Plus see what I mean about the spacing? Oh well. It was late and I wanted to get this uploaded. I will try to do better next time. Damn computers! 


	8. Drunken drama

**A/N: **Okay Chapter Eight is here (finally). Writing this chapter was like pulling teeth! I had so much difficulty even beginning. I'm still not entirely satisfied but the plot and my characters simply wouldn't meet in the middle so this is my compromise. Consequently am not that happy with it but I think the story flows better so I'll deal.  
  
Big Thanks to all you faithful readers(assuming you still exist). Every time I was ready to smash my keyboard over this I would get a fantastic, encouraging review and it would convince me to continue. So thank you all. I treat you so mean and I'm sorry.  
I will try to do better!  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was dark. That was the first thing Rogue realised.  
  
The second was that the ground beneath her was moving.  
  
The third thing, which in hindsight should probably have been the first, was that she was still very much inebriated. Unfortunately for her she realised this only after she had attempted to stand up. As the ground rushed toward her for the umpteenth time that night Rogue felt more annoyed than anything else.  
  
She was lost in her own irritated thoughts which is why it took several minutes to register that the ground was no longer rising rapidly to meet her. Unable to understand why this was now the case, she stared blankly below her .  
  
Hey, since when was land made of wood? she demanded to no one in particular.  
  
Since the land is a ship. came a voice from somewhere behind her.  
  
Rogue frowned down at the boards, trying to understand when the earth became a ship. Gradually it dawned on her that she was on a boat and that the reason she had ceased to fall was a strong pair of arms had encircled her from behind and were even now holding her up. Which was stupid because,  
  
I don't need to be held up! I'm only a bit drunk.' she exclaimed to the night in general.  
  
Oh, is that so m'dear? the warm voice sounded from the dark, Well if you're certain.  
  
Her support vanished and Rogue completed her earlier journey to the deck, landing face down with an audible thump. Fortunately for her the numbness afforded by the alcohol meant she felt no pain but it did nothing to ease her temper.  
  
Hey! You don't just drop people Mr.. um....guy! she grumbled, realising she didn't know who she was yelling at. She rolled over glaring up into a dark smiling face and two deep brown eyes that seemed to sparkle despite the darkness. Her anger abruptly fled and she gazed up, transfixed by his face.  
  
she recognised him, but she didn't remember him looking quite like this. You're eyes are so beautiful. Can I touch them?' she asked reaching toward him. As she looked at her hand, she realised something was wrong with it. Frowning she brought it close to her face. It looked like a hand. Very pale and the nails were a bit ragged and short but nothing very wrong with it.  
  
No gloves she whispered, remembering suddenly Can't touch, no gloves.  
  
Jack meanwhile, was laughing quietly as he stood over her. Having hauled her, unconscious, back to the ship with Will, he decided to leave her on deck, cushioned on the disused canvas boat covers. Will had gone below to get some sleep while Jack remained with Rogue.  
  
To stop her from staggerin' over the side as he'd told Will.  
  
That hadn't stopped a suspicious and disapproving look from the boy but Jack knew that if he started caring what Will thought about him, he may as well join the clergy and retire to Surrey.  
  
He was watching now as she attempted to stand, still muttering about gloves.  
  
Taking pity on her pathetic struggles he reached down and grabbed her shoulder, intending to pull her up but she turned suddenly and tried to use his legs for leverage, which resulted in them both tumbling to the ground in a tangle on arms, legs and sailcloth.  
  
Jack laughed and Rogue did too, more because he was than because she had once again fallen over. She didn't think she'd been this bad at walking before. Eventually she stopped laughing, and decided she should try standing again, more to prove to herself she actually could rather than a desire to be upright.  
  
Rogue turned over and found herself face to face with Jack. It was just at that moment that her brain again registered the fact he was an attractive male, personal hygiene aside. Her body then piped up deciding that it rather liked the feel of his body pressed against it. The alcohol then happily decided to remove all her inhibitions.  
  
Having considered it at length later on, Rogue decided that it was all these things that led to her next actions. She had to keep telling herself that she never would have acted that way under normal circumstances, even though the annoying rational corner of her brain knew very well she would have.  
  
Rogue stretched up and kissed him. As kisses went it was chaste, just a brush of her lips upon his. He looked momentarily startled but then reciprocated with enthusiasm, one hand sliding down to cup the back of her head. His enjoyment was fleeting because Rogue's powers kicked in and suddenly it was Jack who couldn't stand. His entire body went rigid and he collapsed forward, unfortunately on top of Rogue.  
  
Thankfully, his erstwhile luck and hers chose that moment to return. Because of her complete lack of co-ordination they both tumbled backwards and his momentum carried him past her and sent him sprawling across the deck.  
  
He rolled to the side, gasping for breath. Rogue surged to her feet and ran for the side, the combined alcohol and transfer making her lose her dinner, lunch and a good deal of her stomach lining or at least that's what it felt like.  
  
Jack lay on the boards, panting. His vision kept fading in and out and he felt as if all the strength had been leeched from his bones. It was if he had been touched by death. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, focusing his mind and feeling some warmth return to his limbs.  
  
When he had enough strength, he raised his head and looked over to where she sat slumped against the side of the deck  
  
Well. That was.... No wonder you're so popular with the lads.  
  
Her head whipped up and her eyes met his.  
  
You think.....I.....my.. another wave of nausea forced her to cut off and she gripped her head in both hands.  
  
Was that a mutant? he asked rolling the unfamiliar word across his tongue as he sat up.  
  
Rogue stood up, staggering across the deck to the water barrel. She took up the dipper and drank deeply. The slightly brackish water felt like heaven on her parched throat.  
  
No. That was my mutant powers. Its why they stuck me in jail. she said angrily, massaging her temples in a feeble attempt to relieve the throbbing ache.  
  
And then we met your freaky former crewmates with their grand spanking Aztec gold curse. And somehow I wind up here with a thumping headache. Just from looking at them I coulda told you they'd mutiny. They've only got ten teeth between them.  
  
She stopped talking realising Jack had gone very still, the silence as sharp as a blade.  
  
I never told you that. he said quietly and deliberately, his voice suddenly cold. How did you know about the curse? And the crew? He stood now, staring across the small space between them like he wanted to bore a hole through her forehead.  
  
Rogue shifted, thoroughly off balance and a little frightened by his intensity. She realised that her current state left her with little control over her emotions and thoughts and consequently she had unthinkingly used the information provided by his recently acquired thoughts.  
  
His cold stare drove into her and for the first time she felt truly afraid in his presence. Her heart began to pound and her mouth worked soundlessly.  
  
When I touch someone, she managed to say, her voice high and thin I take their strength and thoughts. I can't help it! I can't control it and when someone touches me it just happens I..I..  
  
His fearsome dark eyes made her cut off, and her body began to shake with the build up of adrenaline. Her thoughts were pushing outwards and the pressure in her head was building and building....  
  
Suddenly there was a crack of thunder and thin fork of lightening arched down from above and struck the deck inches from where Jack was standing. He leapt backward, steadying himself against the mast  
  
God's blood. Now that was a near thing. Seems my luck ain't completely gone. he murmured, earlier intensity forgotten.  
  
Rogue felt strange, her entire body numb yet every inch of skin tingled. Her head pounded fiercely and her vision briefly doubled. For the second time that night she raced for the side, stumbling and tripping when her body refused to respond. Reaching the rail she hung on for dear life, retching uncontrollably.  
  
After a moment she sank to the deck, curling into a ball of pain and misery. She felt a hand on her back, and Jack settled beside her.  
  
I'm tryin' to find a way of explaining this so you can understand. she said softly, so softly that he almost didn't catch it. But I can't explain genetics and everything about mutants and powers.... she trailed off dejectedly before whispering Maybe those fat bastards in Port Royale were right. Maybe I am a witch.Well your the comeliest witch I ever met Jack said lightly.  
  
The exorbitant amounts of alcohol she had consumed and the use of her powers had made her head very muddled. She realised vaguely that Jack was trying to ease the tension between them but also that he was still majorly unhappy about her powers, well not her powers, just the fact that she knew what was going on in his head.  
Although her absorbtion of Jack had cured her of some of the queasiness, it was still hard to think, to focus.  
Added to that Rogue now felt a heavy weight of guilt at her actions. She should have known better than to kiss him! Even drunk as a skunk, she should have stopped herself!  
  
So. You can see my mind. Jack said heavily, breaking the uneasy silence and Rogue's self flagellation.  
  
She nodded miserably, feeling sick and afraid.  
  
Sort of. Not really. I mean I've got some of the surface thoughts, like how you feet hurt and how tired you are and there's some other stuff but mostly its just a jumbled mass. I don't look at it. Like the sun y'know? Rogue realised she was rambling but weariness and shock and alcohol were making it difficult to stay focused.  
  
Jack, I would never tell anyone about anything I learned.....I wouldn't do that. she finished, the sad gravity of her words seeming to placate him. He nodded once, not meeting her gaze, instead looking out across the water, seemingly deep in thought.  
  
The wind picked up and the cool night air washed over them both as they sat, staring out at the sea. Rogue thought briefly that this was how they had been coming in to Tortuga only a few hours ago. So much had happened since then. The breeze ruffled the sail above them, making it snap and sigh against the mast.  
  
Did you know she whispered staring out into the darkness, That there are going to be ships that can cross the ocean without sails or wind? They're so big that you can't feel the sea. Its just like being on land.  
  
He snorted in disbelief and she continued, not really listening.  
  
There isn't any darkness, not really, there are lights that shine all night long. We have planes and cars and trains, we don't need to sail anywhere. Nope. No more sailing. Except by rich guys. And racing guys and also ships. Lots of ships.Oh really?' he asked, amusement openly colouring his voice And how do you manage that? Are you all saviours? Walk on water?  
  
She looked at him, confused.  
  
No. By, y'know, motors and twirly things and wheels. Except some people do it themselves. Like Magneto, with the flying. But, y'know, I never really understood how he did it. I mean magnetically? How lame. And , she paused, raising one finger as if to stop any objections from her companion.  
  
Okay sure she ploughed on he manipulates magnetic fields but are they strong enough to lift him? He's no pixie and, wouldn't it be like trying to lift yourself by pulling on your feet? I don't get it. And if he's manipulating fields, what about the serious environmental harm he could do? Huh? Nobody ever thinks about that. I bet he does lotsa harm. I bet he's a harm..... magnet....causer! I bet he's screwin up the brains of bears and monkeys and y'know whales. I bet they beach themselves cos o' him! And another thing! she shouted, warming to her topic Not all metal is magnetic! I mean hello, copper!?... Or is it gold...... Damn I knew I shoulda studied for that Chem midterm!..  
  
She cut off at the sound of laughter. Curiously she looked over at Jack to see him almost rolling on the deck with the force of his chuckles.  
  
What're ya laughin' at? she demanded crossly before realising she had again been babbling, and to Jack, who had no knowledge of Chemistry, mid terms or Magneto it would have sounded even more inane than it did to her. She blushed hotly in the darkness, blaming the alcohol for her slipping emotional control.  
  
You're a strange one lass Jack said quietly, one hand carefully stroking the hair back from her face.  
  
she whispered brokenly, eyes locked with his You can't,.....you're not s'posed to.... she shook her head slightly, trying to clear the alcoholic fog. She didn't have much luck.  
  
Shh. I know. he said soothingly Ye have nothing to fear from me Rogue.  
  
She relaxed against him and he placed an arm about her shoulders. As Rogue leant on him she felt the strength in his body and breathed in the scent of him, surprisingly good considering how infrequently people in this time bathed.  
  
So we can jus' be friends? Compadres, amigos, amis.. she looked up at his face and the laughter and confusion she saw there made her finish lamely,   
  
He briefly hugged her shoulders before replying.  
  
Aye bobbin. Mates it'll be.I wish, I mean I want... I don't know she trailed off tiredly, rubbing at her exhausted eyes.  
  
She stared over at him blearily, and then grinned.  
  
You're too old for me anyhow.  
  
Jack laughed aloud at this and nodded his head in agreement.  
  
You're fair right there as well he returned.  
  
As they stared out at the sea once more Rogue felt a deep sadness well up in her. As she sat here with this man, who was fast becoming her friend, enjoying the quiet beauty of the night, she realised that not only did she not belong here but back where she supposedly belonged she had never felt this....right.  
  
Why is it that I'm a million miles from my life but I feel more comfortable here than I ever did before? Tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes. Angrily she dashed them away.  
  
Ahh... now for the melancholy. Chin up Rogue, t'will all look better in the morningAlthough maybe not for you at first he grinned, dark eyes glittering in the light reflected off the water.  
  
Rogue opened her mouth to ask what he meant but was stopped by a huge yawn that cracked her jaws wide open. She was suddenly so bone weary as the events and shocks of the past days descended upon her. She dropped her head onto Jack's shoulder, briefly breathing in the scent, a warm mixture of salt, rum and incense that clung to him.  
  
As she closed her eyes she thought she heard Jack say something but it was lost in the welcoming embrace of sleep.  
  
It wasn't until the next day that the char on the deck was discovered and even then it was little remarked on.  
  
TBC  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Sorry once again for shameful lateness of this chapter. Will try to do better next time. 


	9. Morning after meetings

evoj8

**A/N: **To all my fabulous, wonderful, gorgeous readers. Thank you so much for your continued support, encouragement and criticism. Its what this writing caper is all about. I can honestly say without all of you I would have given up ages ago.(And to all the smart arses who just said "Oh I thought you already had" I am just slow. Still here. Slower than usual 'cos of many real life traumas but that's not why we're here).

This chapter is slightly shorter than I wanted but i needed to get something out to you. I refuse to let the story die:)

In that spirit...

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Rogue woke up.

Then she really, _really_ wished she hadn't.

"Oh god!" she groaned, the words seemly drawn out of her mouth with hooks. Or spikes. Or some other incredibly painful, pointy objects.

Her memories of last night were confused to say the least. Bits and pieces kept floating to the surface, like hideous unidentifiable lumps in a lunchroom stew. Bars and random pirate-types, a couple of fights? It was all brief flashes

"Oh god! Did I kiss him!" she shrieked, bolting upright.

That, as it turns out, was the worst thing she could have possibly done in the history of doing things. Which, all history considered, was pretty impressive.

Her body assaulted her brain with a large blunt object labelled 'Hangover' and Rogue realised that she had to be elsewhere instantly. Elsewhere as in someone else's body.

She ran for the side, which was thankfully only a few steps away, stumbling as her legs refused to co-operate with the rest of her body.

She clutched the polished wooden rail and hung on for dear life as her body, almost of its own accord, lunged forward and emptied itself into the dark green water below.

She heaved until her throat was burning. She felt as though her stomach and most of her small intestine were trying to clamber up her oesophagus and out of her mouth.

Oh God, oh god she was never _ever _gonna drink again.

Drink. Oh god!

Thinking about drinking sent her over the side again, dry heaving now, until she thought she should just pitch into the ocean and drown rather than suffer this agony.

"Ah the fair flower of our vessel at last opens her eyes" Jack exclaimed extravagantly, coming up from behind to where she was draped inelegantly across the rail.

"Just kill me and get it over with" she muttered bitterly, pressing her head between her palms.

"Where would be the sport in that hmmm?" he said and even through the back of her head she could feel his mocking grin.

'Will kill him' she thought muzzily 'Just as soon as I stop dying'.

"You've quite recovered then? No more singing? No more fighting? No more trying to kill me?" seeing her look at his last statement he laughed again "Good to see the grog didn't addle all your wits."

While she hung there, plotting his death she looked down and noticed the dark green water foaming and tossing as it moved past the hull.

"Are we still in Tortuga?" she asked confusedly, trying to force her brain to think when all it wanted to do was curl whimpering in a corner for a while. Several years at least.

"Shoved off this mornin' " was the reply.

"Huh?" was all she could manage . She gathered her thoughts from where they were cowering in her brain and tried again "How. We ain't got..."

Jack interrupted her "Got one this mornin'. Right before we shoved off.'

"Well duh!" she said before realising Jack wouldn't understand "I mean, couldn't have left unless we had crew" Talking was becoming difficult, what with the extreme pain and nausea distracting her somewhat.

"Where " she rasped painfully "where're m' gloves?"

"Don't know me old girl, you weren't wearing them when we hauled you aboard last night. Mayhap one of you're swains has them pressed near his thumper for luck, or near his.." he trailed off with a smirk as she glared at him with heavily bloodshot eyes.

"If you even think about finishing that sentence I will kill you in ways you never imagined" she threatened, managing a credible growl despite her extreme hangover.

Jack chortled in that irritating way that Rogue was fast becoming accustomed to. Which didn't mean she stopped wanting to maim him whenever he did it.

Sobering slightly Jack said "Don't take on. There'll be naught to fear of your trouble with this lot. They'll keep their yards. A'course" he continued smirk curling his lips again "One shine at your fair face and t'will take a power to restrain them."

"Or not" he amended, not even phased by her Absolute Death Glare.

"Keep it up and I'll puke all over you in punishment" she threatened, gratified to finally see his concern. Typical. Go for the outfit.

"Even the hat" she grinned horribly, red eyes squinting menacingly

"No need to get nasty wench" he said huffily, moving away in case she was serious.

Always the hat, she thought painfully levering herself to her feet, hands grimly gripping the rail, stomach churning ominously. Deep breaths girl she thought, closing her eyes and swallowing desperately.

You've faced down some of the meanest bastards in two eras, a little hangover is not gonna defeat you.

"See now, I just wanna hit me" she muttered as she pushed away from the rail. Slowly, as slowly as a friday afternoon class, she raised her head and opened her eyes.

And blinked.

"Whoa! Who the hell are all these guys?" she demanded wincing when her quiet voice hurt her own ears.

"Lass, did ye conk yer noggin? We'd just over talkin' about the new crew." Jack said coming to stand beside her.

"Okay crew yes. Not the annual gathering of certified 'uglier than sin and twice as stupid' guys" she said one hand gripping her pounding head while she squinted disbelievingly at the crew.

"What's wrong w' em?" Jack questioned, sounding hurt. Rogue knew he was putting it on, tactical nuclear weapons couldn't dent Jack's hide.

'Oh nothing. They're just dandy" she cooed sarcastically "Look that man only had one leg, I'm sure he'll be very useful with the climbing and the running. Maybe he can hook up with the guy with one eye. Or the one with one hand"

She turned to Jack, ignoring the look of injury on his handsome features.

"Y'know I think that altogether you might have one whole man. Well done." She patted him with false camaraderie on his well covered shoulder.

"Better a dozen half men than one woman" can a gravely voice from behind them.

They both turned, Rogue carefully and gently out of respect for her stomach and head.

The man who had spoken was short and thickset. He looked to be older than forty and his face bore the flush and bruising of a lifetime at the bottle. Lips pulled back in a sneer revealed broken yellow teeth and his lank hair hung in his bloodshot eyes.

Rogue instantly loathed him.

"What was that?" she demanded, turning fully to face him.

"Ah Mr Gibbs, may I introduce Miss Rogue, the brightest jewel in the Caribbean.

Rogue my dear, this is Mr Gibbs, our first mate" Jack flourished, totally ignoring the instant antagonism between the two.

"Yeah, cos I care what his name is." Rogue snapped, glaring at the filthy sailor. "I asked you a question."

"Women ain't no use on a ship" Gibbs said by way of an answer "Only use they got has no place on a ship at sea" he looked her up and down suggestively "and they're powerful bad luck."

Yep. This man had to die. Preferably right now.

"Hey Grandpa" she demanded angrily "What the fuck're you smirkin' at?" He looked at her face now, startled at her words. "First off, look at me when your talking to me. And second have the fucking balls to insult me to my face."

She took a step toward him, hands on hips, hangover for the moment forgotten in her rage.

"Third. Yes I'm a woman. Well spotted. Guess you've worked out how to piss by now too.

How bout you don't hold that against me and I won't hold you up for the fact that you're old, ugly, stink worse than the pile of shit I woke up in two days ago and clearly have never known the love of a woman!"

"I have known..."

"Dead bodies don't count."

"Well she's got a mouth on 'er right en'o'." one of the crew smirked as the rest sniggered openly, having gathered around to watch the fun.

Gibbs face flooded with colour and he took a menacing step toward her, and Rouge beckoned him on. A fight might be just what she needed. Making someone else feel or at least look as shitty as she felt was a heartening prospect.

"Now now Rogue," came a smooth voice "That's not the way to make friends."

Jack, forgotten until now, moved between the two of them and fixed her with a stern look one eyebrow raised.

"Gibbs. Be about your work" He ordered calmly.

The stocky man gave her one final glare before touching his forehead and muttering,

"Aye aye Cap'n."

The rest of the crew dispersed until Jack and Rogue were left alone before the mizen mast.

"Like I said Jack. Great crew." Rogue growled, hands going back to her temples.

"They'll do well eno' before the end" he said mildly. "Rogue when you're on my ship you obey my commands. I'm the Cap'n and that's the way of it"

"Yeah I know" she answered sullenly.

"Well Gibbs is my second in command. You'll not be causing trouble with him that'll crimp my sails, y'hear?"

"But he's a total assmuncher! And a sexist pig to boot!" She protested, hands dropping in disbelief.

"You take orders from the first mate" Jack said pleasantly but with an undercurrent of iron, which brooked no arguments.

"As you command my captain" she bowed sarcastically.

He just shook his head and moved off, whistling and swinging his spyglass. Rogue turned back to where Gibbs stood grinning triumphantly. She smiled and fluttered her lashes at him, moving towards him slowly. It was a testament to his stupidity that he didn't have the sense to look concerned at her sudden change of demeanour.

"Jack said I had to obey you...but that won't be a problem if you're dead. And trust me, it'll look like an accident." she said softly, smiling sweetly at him.

Gibbs blanched and backed away from her.

At least I can still take care of assholes she thought grimly.

She noticed Will looked at her stonily and flipped him off. He was one crew member they could do without.

When his response was a confused look she realised that he didn't know what the gesture meant.

'Though anyone with half a brain could get the gist' she thought,

Jesus that guy was a pain in the ass. He was wound tighter than Scott 'Dudley Do Right' Summers. Which was actually quite impressive given that she hadn't thought such a feat was physically possible.

Sighing she turned away, heading to where several crew were hauling sail lines.

Taking her place behind a tall African man, she gripped the rope and pulled, hoping the work would help take her mind off her increasingly crappy situation and her churning stomach. Concentrating on this she didn't notice how easily she fit in to the rhythm of the work, her body using the memories borrowed in all the recent transfers.

Like a punch to the head she realised the person in front of her was actually a woman.

"What the..." she said, dropping the line and tapping the woman on her jacket covered shoulder.

The woman turned with ill disguised impatience. She gave the barest flicker of an eyelid upon seeing Rogue.

"What?" The woman demanded angrily, turning her head while still continuing her work on the rope.

She was beautiful despite the dirt and shabbiness of her attire. And the enormous ill-fitting hat she wore.

'What is it with these people and hats' Rogue wondered. Her eyes were clear and hard, determination writ large in every line of her body. And she gave the barest flicker of surprise at recognising Rogue's gender.

Just then the sail was raised and the others dispersed to continue their work. The tall woman and Rogue stayed eyeing each other up. The teenager was the first to speak.

"Rogue" she said, facing the woman, "I don't take bullshit".

"Annamaria" she responded, looking the young Southerner over "I don't give quarter".

Rogue smiled, and turned to look at Jack who was watching them with concern. At his anxious expression, Rogue smiled even wider, showing her teeth in a less than friendly way.

'Oh yeah. She has the dirt on him alright' she thought with glee.

"Well Annamaria, I think we're gonna get along just fine" she said. The older woman had noticed her glance at their captain and she too now wore a grin that promised no good things for said captain.

"Rogue, I think you may be right" she said.

Jack had the sense to look worried.

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End file.
